LIBRARY 

OF  THE 

Theological  Seminary, 

PRINCETON,  N.  J. 

BX  8495    .D73  D73  1835 
Drew,  Jacob  Halls. 
The  life,  character,  and 
literary  labours  of  Samuel; 


A  DONATION 


iBeceiued 


I 


) 


THE 


LIFE,  CHARACTER, 


LITERARY  LABOURS 

OF 

SAMUEL   DREW,  A.M. 


BY  HIS  ELD^T  SON. 


HB  THOUGHT  AS  A  SAGE,  WHILE  HE  FELT  AS  A  MAN.' 


NEW-YORK: 


PUBLISHED  BY  HARPER  &  BROTHERS, 

NO.   8  2  CLIFF-STREET, 


1  8  3  5. 


Digitized  by 

tine  Internet  Arcliive 

in  2014 

Iittps://arcliive.org/details/iifecharacterlit00drew_1 


PREFACE. 


Conscious  of  the  lesson  contained  in  his  personal 
history,  it  was  Mr.  Drew's  intention  to  become  his  own 
biographer.  Not  many  months  before  his  decease,  he 
said  to  a  relative,  "  Should  God  spare  me  to  return  in 
health  to  Cornwall,!  intend  to  employ  my  leisure  hours 
in  writino-  some  account  of  my  life,  and  leave  it  for 
others  to  publish  when  I  am  gone." 

Tliose  who  have  read  the  life  of  the  late  Dr.  Adam 
Clarke  will  recollect  that  he  assigns  as  a  moving  cause 
of  his  valuable  auto-biographical  sketch,  the  importunity 
of  a  friend.  That  friend  was  Samuel  Drew  ;  and  the 
fact  was  afterward  alleged  as  a  reason  why  Mr.  D. 
should  no  longer  hazard  the  writing  of  his  own  memon-s 
upon  the  contingency  of  life. 

'•In  reference  to  some  auto-biography  of  yourself,"' 
writes  a  member  of  Dr.  Clarke's  family,  this  is  not  the 
first  time  I  have  entreated  you,  nor  will  it  be  the  last, 
till  I  know  that  you  are  attending  to  the  suggestion. 
No  man,  my  friend,  Avhose  intellect  has,  like  yours, 
sprung  up  amid  the  shallows  of  this  world's  advantages, 
'  dieth  to  himself  You  will  be  written,  well  or  ill  :  and 
envy  is  a  scribe  as  well  as  honesty.  You  told  my 
father,  that  if  he  did  not  write  his  own  life,  some  one 
would  '  immolate  his  reputation  at  the  shrine  of  lucre,' 
The  next  morning  he  sat  down  at  four  o'clock,  and  pro- 
ducod,  with  little  intermission,  what  you  will  shortly 
read.  Would  that  I  could  for  a  moment  be  Samuel 
Drew,  and  you  Adam  Clarke,  in  the  application  of  the 
above." 

The  force  of  these  observations  Mr.  Drew  felt ;  but, 
alas  !  physical  debility  rendered  him  then  unequal  to 
the  suw2:ested  task.    Availing  himself  of  a  friend's  as- 
A2 


VI 


PREFACE. 


sistance,  a  few  particulars  of  his  boyhood  were  com- 
mitted to  writing,  when  the  encroachment  of  disease 
forbade  further  progress,  and  death  transferred  the  brief 
manuscript  from  the  fatlier  to  the  son. 

Under  an  oppressive  conviction  of  inadequacy,  yet  as 
a  fihal  duty,  the  writer  has  endeavoured  to  give  comple- 
tion to  the  design  of  his  parent.  In  prosecuting  his  un- 
dertaking, many  interesting  circumstances  in  his  father's 
life,  many  pleasing  traits  of  character,  and  many  impor- 
tant facts  have,  for  the  first  time,  come  to  his  know- 
ledge ;  and  if  tiie  pleasurable  feelings  which  these  have 
raised  in  his  own  bosom  be  in  any  degree  participated 
by  those  who  peruse  this  narrative,  his  labour  will  be 
ampFy  compensated. 

Consanguinity,  while  it  opens  the  most  authentic 
sources  of  information,  imposes  its  peculiar  restraints ; 
and  did  the  individual  whose  character  is  sketched  in 
this  memoir  exhibit  fewer  excellences  or  greater  in- 
firmities, it  might  be  difficult  for  the  son  to  maintain  the 
impartiality  of  the  biographer.  From  this  difiiculty  he 
trusts  he  is  exempt. 

Wishing  chiefly  to  present  the  reader  with  those 
features  in  his  father's  character  which  are  not  seen  in 
his  writings,  he  has  been  less  solicitous  to  show  the 
metaphysician  than  to  depict  the  man — to  portray  the 
philosopher  than  to  delineate  the  Christian.  For  this 
rieason,  many  letters  of  profound  thought  and  great 
value  have  given  place  to  others  written  in  the  playful- 
ness of  humour,  the  warmtli  of  aff'^ction,  the  unreserved- 
ness  of  friendship,  or  the  glow  of  pious  feeling. 

To  deprecate  the  severity  of  criticism,  because  the 
writer  appears  for  the  first  time  before  the  public,  would 
be  unavailing.  He  asks  credit  for  upright  intentions  : 
for  the  manner  in  which  his  task  is  executed,  he  wishes 
no  other  meed  than  justice  and  candour  award.  That 
the  contents  of  this  volume  will  be  universally  approved, 
he  does  not  anticipate.  Though  irritating  expressions 
have  been  avoided,  no  fact  or  opinion  has  been  sup- 
pressed from  a  fear  of  giving  offence  ;  and  if,  in  endea- 
vouring to  exhibit.*  faithful  portrait,  he  has  unwittingly 
provoked  hostility,  he  must  expect  retaliation. 


PREFACE. 


vii 


In  the  perusal  of  the  foUowino:  pages,  those  persons 
who  knew  Mr.  Drew  only  as  a  Methodist,  and  who  ex- 
pect to  see  him,  as  a  friend  expressed  it,  "swimming  in 
a  river  of  Methodism,"  wiil  probably  experience  a  feel- 
ing of  disappointment.  Equally  dissatisfied  will  those 
readers  be  who,  acquainted  with  his  reputation  as  a 
metaphysical  writer,  seek  in  this  volume  a  memoir  of 
the  accomplished  scholar  or  the  learned  divine.  But, 
though  destitute  of  the  ordinary  features  of  literary  or 
religious  biography,  there  is  a  moral  m  the  life  of 
Samuel  Drew  which  must  present  itself  to  every 
thoughtful  reader. 

.Tacob  Halls  Drew. 

St.  Austell,  February,  1834. 


CONTENTS. 


SECTION  I. 

P«se 


Preliminary  Remarks   13 

SECTION  II. 

Family  Connections  and  Parentage  18 

SECTION  III. 

Birth  of  S:iniuel  Drew — Poverty  of  his  parents — Anecdotes  of  his 
childhood — His  education — His  mother's  death — Employed  at  a 
stainping  mill — Moral  debasement,  and  its  cause  23 

SECTION  IV. 

Samuel's  temper  in  boyhood — Apprenticed  to  a  shoemaker — Harsh 
usage — Evil  habits — .^necdutes  and  incidents  -Absconds  from  his 
master's  service — Consequent  hardships — Returns  to  his  father's 
house  30 

SECTION  V. 

His  brother's  character — Family  anecdotes — His  sister's  strong  affec- 
tion for  him — Her  remarkable  deliverance  from  danger   ....  41 

SECTION  VI. 

Samuel  is  employed  in  the  neighbourhood  of  Plymouth — His  char- 
acter at  that  time — Perilous  smuggling  adventure  49 

SECTION  VII. 

Methodism  in  St.  Austell — Dr.  Adam  Clarke's  appointment  and 
labours  there— Death  of  Jabez  Drew — Its  effect  on  Samuel — He 
becomes  decidedly  religious,  and  joins  the  Methodist  society    .    .  54 


X 


CONTENTS. 


SECTION  VIII. 

Page 

Mr.  Drew  begins  to  work  in  St.  Austell  as  a  journeyman  shoemaker 
— His  master's  character — His  first  literary  bias — He  commences 
business  for  himself — His  difficulties  and  perseverance  .    .    .    .  61 

SECTIOx'lX. 

Literary  pursuits — Appointed  a  local  preacher  and  class-leader — 
Dismissal  from  office — Instances  of  benevolent  disposition — Suc- 
cess in  business — He  abandons  politics  68 


SECTION  X. 


Traits  of  character — Mr.  Drew's  method  of  instructing  his  workmen, 
&c. — His  marriage — He  purposes  emigrating  to  America  ...  77 


SECTION  XI. 

Mr.  Drew's  first  literary  compositions — His  mode  of  study — Occa- 
sion of  his  becoming  an  author — Remarks  on  Paine's  "  Age  of 
Reason"  published— First  acquaintance  with  the  Rev.  John 
Whitaker — Favourable  reception  of  his  remarks — Elegy  on  the 
death  of  Mr.  Patterson  


SECTION  XII 

Controversy  with  Mr.  Polwhele  and  "  A  Friend  of  the  Church"  .    .  92 
SECTION  XIII. 

Progress  of  Mr.  Drew's  Essay  on  the  Soul— Interview  with  Mr. 
Whitaker— Acquaintance  with  Mr.  Brittoii— Essay  on  the  Soul 
published— Its  favourable  reception— Mr.  Polwhele's  generous 
conduct  100 

SECTION  XIV. 

Extension  of  Mr.  Drew's  literary  acquaintance — He  commences 
his  Essay  on  the  Identity  and  Resurrection  of  the  Human  Body  .  112 


SECTION  XV. 

Mr.  Drew  delivers  lectures  on  English' grammar  and  geography- 
Commencement  of  the  friendship  between  him  and  Dr.  Adam 
Clarke— He  is  elected  a  member  of  the  Manchester  Philological 
Society— His  connection  with  Dr.  Coke,  and  relinquishment  of 
business  

SECTION  XVI. 

Mr.  Drew  is  invited  to  enter  the  church— His  conversation  with  a 
Deist — Ho  writes  as  a  reviewer 


CONTENTS. 


xi 


SECTION  XVII. 

Pag^ 

Completion  of  Mr.  Drew's  Treatise  on  the  Identitj-  and  Resurrec- 
tion of  the  Body — He  submits  his  MS.  to  various  literary  char- 
acters— Publication  of  his  Essay — Its  reception  with  the  public  .  139 

SECTION  XVIII. 


Death  and  Memoir  of  Mr.  Whitaker— Mr.  Drew's  illness — His  ac- 
quaintance with  Colonel  Sandys  and  Professor  Kidd — He  is  ad- 
vised to  write  for  the  Burnet  prize  148 

SECTION  XIX. 

Treatise  on  the  Being  and  Attributes  of  the  Deity  undertaken  as  a 
Prize  Essay — Mr.  Drew  thinks  of  editing  a  provincial  Newspaper 
— His  "  Arguments'  on  the  Divinity  of  Christ,"  and  "  Reply  to 
Thomas  Prout,"  published   .  159 

SECTION  XX. 

Death  of  Mr.  Drew's  father — Examination  of  Dr.  Kidd's  Essay  on 
the  Trinity — Publication  of  the  History  of  Cornwall — Appointed 
by  the  Methodist  Conference  to  write  the  Life  of  Dr.  Coke  .        .  168 


SECTION  XXI. 
Mr.  Drew  contemplates  a  philosophical  investigation  of  the  tenets  of 


Wesleyan  Methodism — His  Essay  on  the  Being  and  Perfections 
of  God  published — He  is  urged  to  write  on  the  Eternal  Sonship  of 
Christ — His  sentiments  on  that  subject  176 

SECTION  XXII. 

Mr.  Drew's  removal  to  Liverpool — His  friendly  reception  there — 
Commencement  of  the  Imperial  Magazine — Intimacy  with  Dr. 
Clarke's  family — Destruction  of  the  Caxton  premises  by  fire  .    .  187 

SECTION  XXIII. 

Mr.  Drew's  first  residence  in  London — Effect  of  his  preaching  on  a 
Roman  Catholic — His  degree  of  A.M.  conferred — Death  of  Mrs. 
Drew — Its  consequences — Mr.  D 's  attachment  to  Cornwall — He 
declines  a  professorship  in  the  London  University  200 


SECTION  XXIV. 

Mr.  Drew's  prolonijed  residence  in  London — Effect  of  Dr.  Clarke's 
death  on  him — His  health  visibly  declines — His  reluctance  to  yield 
to  the  demands  of  an  enfeebled  constitution — Rapid  diminution  of 
strength — He  resolves  to  quit  London  210 


xii 


CONTENTS. 


SECTION  XXV. 

Page 

Effect  of  bodily  debility  on  Mr.  Drew's  mind — He  leaves  London 
— His  journey  to  Cornwall — His  last  days  and  death — His  epitaph 
— Further  particulars  of  his  decline — Tribute  of  his  townsmen  to 
his  memory  219 

SECTION  XXVI. 

Mr.  Drew's  personal  appearance — His  domestic  habits — Training 
of  his  children — His  affability  and  readiness  to  instruct — Famil- 
iarity in  correspondence — Singular  instance  of  monomania        ■  231 

SECTION  XXVII. 

Instances  of  his  humility,  integrity,  sensibility,  benevolence,  and 
pacific  temper — Anonymous  letter  censuring  his  conduct — Un- 
pleasant dilemma  252 

SECTION  xxvni. 

Mr.  Drew's  candour  and  freedom  from  censoriousness — His  inde- 
pendence of  thought  shown  in  a  letter  to  Dr.  Adam  Clarke — His 
catholic  spirit  exemplified  in  a  public  address,  and  in  various  let- 
ters— His  pacific  disposition  265 

SECTION  XXIX. 

Miscellaneous  traits  of  character— Conversational  talents  .    .    .  .278 

SECTION  XXX. 

Mr.  Drew's  character  as  a  Christian  and  a  teacher  of  religion — 
Peculiarities  of  his  preaching  392 

SECTION  XXXI. 
Mr.  Drew's  intellectual  character  304 

SECTION  XXXII. 
Character  of  his  writings  ^  31 S 


APPENDIX. 

Miscellanpous  Sayings,  Opinions,  and  Conversational  Remarks  .    .  48.1 

Letters  of  Rcligi  us  Counsel  507 

An  "  Ode  on  Christmas"  (Mr.  Drew's  earliest  existing  composition)  523 


LIFE  OF  SAMUEL  DREW. 


SECTION  1. 
Preliminary  Remarks. 

Whoever  reads  attentively  the  page  of  History  and  the 
book  of  JHuman  Life  will  perceive  an  intimate  connection  be- 
tween the  religion  of  the  New  Testament  and  the  moral  and 
civil  condition  of  man, — a  connection  so  intimate  as  to  author- 
ize him  in  placing  Christian  principles  and  human  happiness 
in  the  relation  of  cause  and  effect. 

Though,  with  the  great  majority  of  the  human  family,  judg- 
ment and  inclination  are  at  variance  ;  though  immediate  grati- 
fication, at  whatever  hazard,  is  commonly  preferred  to  future 
advantage,  and  the  concerns  of  the  present  life  are  suffered  to 
outweigh  the  considerations  of  eternity  ;  yet,  if  our  temporal 
welfare  be  so  closely  allied  lo  our  religious  belief,  and  this  be- 
lief involve  our  final  destiny,  whatever  tends  to  confirm  and 
inculcate  the  doctrines  of  Christianity  must  promote  the  best 
interests  of  mankind,  and  be  entitled  to  their  highest  gratitude. 

The  secret  promptings  of  every  man's  spirit  indicate  that 
his  existence  is  not  limited  to  the  duration  of  a  few  years  ;  yet 
such  is  the  antipathy  of  many  to  the  restraints  of  religion,  that 
they  seek  reasons  for  rejecting  the  testimony  of  their  con- 
science, and  willingly  disbelieve  that  future  retribution  which 
is  the  foundation  of  every  religious  system,  and  every  efficient 
moral  code.  Even  in  minds  rightly  disposed,  doubts  possibly 
mingle,  at  times,  with  the  belief  of  a  future  state  ;  and  to  the 
sincere  inquirer  after  truth,  difficulties  not  unfrequently  occur, 
which,  in  a  matter  so  momentous,  must  occasion  mental  inquie- 
tude. 

To  dispel  those  doubts — to  remove  such  difficulties — to  showr 
the  coincidence  between  Reason  and  Revelation — to  examine 
the  evidences  on  which  our  expectations  of  eternal  happiness 
rest — to  place  them  in  the  eleareat  irid  most  commanding  light 
B 


14 


LIFE  OF  SAMUEL  DREW 


— to  point  the  way  from  probability  to  "a  sure  and  certain  hope" 
— and  to  enforce,  by  powerful  appeals  to  the  understanding  and 
the  conscience,  those  practical  results  which  should  follow  from 
such  premises — is  a  work  of  incalculable  utility;  and  he  who 
performs  it  successfully  presents  a  less  questionable  claim  to 
the  approbation  of  his  species  than  the  greatest  conqueror  that 
has  lived,  from  Nimrod  to  Napoleon. 

Whether  the  individual  whose  life  we  are  about  to  narrate 
be  entitled  to  share  in  such  high  praise,  the  reader  of  the  fol- 
lowing pages  will  determine.  But  whatever,  in  this  respect, 
may  be  the  sentiments  of  him  who  writes,  or  of  him  who  reads, 
it  is  neither  to  rear  a  monument  to  departed  excellence,  nor  to 
gratify  the  craving  appetite  of  excited  curiosity,  that  the  biog- 
rapher should  undertake  his  task.  The  utility  of  his  labours, 
and  the  probable  influence  of  the  character  he  attempts  to  por- 
tray, are  of  far  higher  importance  than  the  gaining  for  his  sub- 
ject or  his  performance  the  breath  of  human  applause. 

The  words  of  inspiration  attest,  that  "  none  of  us  liveth  to 
himself,  and  no  man  dieth  to  himself."  Every  man's  conduct 
is  either  beneficial  or  pernicious  while  he  lives,  and  his  name 
becomes  a  guiding  light  or  a  warning  beacon  to  posterity.  The 
cfTects  of  his  example  may  be  confined  to  the  domestic  circle, 
or  felt  throughout  a  nation ;  but  in  either  case  it  will  follow, 
that  "  the  memory  of  the  just  is  blessed,  but  the  name  of  the 
wicked  shall  rot." 

Faithful  biography  is  to  the  moral  philosopher  what  a  series 
of  experiments  is  to  the  student  of  physical  science.  Each 
is  a  register  of  facts  from  which  important  principles  may  be 
deduced.  From  the  one  we  infer  the  properties  of  matter,  and 
from  the  other  we  acquire  an  insight  into  the  operations  of 
mind. 

But,  though  all  biographical  writings  tend  thus  to  enlarge 
our  knowledge  of  human  nature,  there  are  some  memoirs  which 
furnish  more  valuable  facts  and  more  delicate  tests  than  others. 
Where,  for  instance,  the  mental  powers  have  been  called  into 
exercise  at  a  late  period  of  life,  and  under  circumstances  sin- 
gularly unpropitious  to  their  development, — where  obstacles 
apparently  insuperable  have  been  vanquished  by  resolution  and 
perseverance, — and  where,  in  a  moral  aspect,  the  commence- 
ment of  life  presents  a  signal  contrast  to  its  subsequent  tenour, 
— more  important  knowledge  may  perhaps  be  gained  than 
from  the  memoirs  of  those  who  have  entered  on  their  career, 
and  pursued  their  course,  under  a  more  favourable  concurrence 
of  events. 


PRELIMINARY  REMARKS. 


IS 


The  philosophy  of  mind  is  not  less  indebted  to  the  suhject 
than  to  the  manner  m  whicn  it  may  be  presented  to  our  notice. 
A  fondness  for  adventurous  exploit,  and  a  love  of  the  marvel- 
lous, lead  the  majority  of  readers  to  attach  value  to  those  lives 
only  which  consist 

"  Of  moving  acciJents  by  flood  and  field, 
Of  hair-breadth  'scapes  1'  the  imminent  deadly  breach." 

Extraordinary  events  alone  claim  their  attention  ;  those  minor 
circumstances  which  chiefly  exhibit  the  character  are  either 
overlooked  or  disregarded. 

But  are  the  great  and  prominent  occurrences  of  a  man's  life 
necessarily  the  most  instructive?  May  not  a  more  valuable 
lesson  frequently  be  gathered  from  facts  which,  though  essen- 
tial to  a  right  apprehension  of  the  subject,  are  in  themselves 
apparently  insignificant  ?  Wiien  an  individual  has  attained  dis- 
tinction, it  is  not  enough  to  know  the  conspicuous  stages  by 
which  he  rose  to  elevation  :  if  we  would  be  fully  benefited  by 
the  history,  of  his  life,  we  should  mark  the  successive  steps 
which  conducted  him  from  one  stage  to  another,  and  trace,  if 
possible,  every  motive  and  every  movement. 

The  finished  painting  of  a  master's  hand  may  excite  univer- 
sal admiration  ;  but  he  who  aims  at  equal  excellence  looks  not 
merely  at  the  result,  but  at  the  process  which  led  on  to  per- 
fection. The  preparation  of  the  canvass  and  the  colours,  the 
distribution  of  light  and  shade,  the  numberless  touches  and  era- 
sures, of  which  the  superficial  observer  knows  nothing,  are  to 
him  matters  of  engrossing  interest ;  while  to  him  who  studies 
the  science  of  mind,  the  creative  power,  the  glowing  concep- 
tions, the  hopes,  the  fears,  the  anxieties,  and  the  varied  feelings 
of  the  artist,  during  the  progress  of  his  work,  are  of  higher 
value  than  the  final  display  of  his  skill,  or  the  manner  of  its 
execution. 

The  great  end  of  biography  is  to  excite  emulation, — to  call 
forth  the  latent  or  dormant  energies  of  the  mind, — to  show  that 
what  man  has  done,  man  may  do, — that  the  field  of  honourable 
labour  is  open,  and  the  reward  offered  to  all  who  will  exert 
themselves : — in  short,  to  lead  to  the  practical  application  of 
that  pithy  exhortation,  "  Go,  and  do  thou  likewise." 

Example,  to  be  useful,  must  be  capable  of  imitation.  A  bril- 
liant career,  resulting  cliiefly  from  an  unusual  train  of  events, 
may  dazzle  and  astonish,  but  lead  to  no  beneficial  result.  To 
imitate  with  a  reasonable  hope  of  success,  our  circumstances 


16 


LIFE  OF  SAHCEL  DREW. 


should  not  be  less  favourable  than  those  in  which  the  object 
of  our  emulalion  was  platted.  Tf!e  lives,  therefore,  of  those 
individuals  who,  from  a  condition  common  to  the  bulk  of  man- 
kind, unappalled  by  difficulties,  and  destitute  of  ordinary  ad- 
vantages, have,  in  humble  dependence  on  a  gracious  Provi- 
dence, put  forth  their  mental  energies,  and,  by  persevering 
efforts,  become  the  architects  of  their  own  fortune,  and  the 
instruments  of  great  good  to  others,  are  the  most  useful,  and 
perhaps  the  most  worihy  of  being  recorded. 

There  are  many  persons  who  profess  to  admit  the  historic 
truth  of  Christianity,  and  yet  pour  contempt  upon  the  humbling 
doctrines  of  tlie  cross.  "  Evangeiii-al  Religion"  is  a  phrase 
at  which  they  take  offence;  and  that  change  of  the  will  and 
affections  which  it  is  understood  to  imply,  they  are  less  ready 
to  seek  th:ui  to  call  in  question.  Not  having  felt  "  the  powers 
of  the  world  to  come,"  and  being  indisposed  to  make  the  in- 
quiry with  the  docile  spirit  of  a  disciple,  they  would  fain  per- 
suade themselves  that  these  things  are  but  enthusiastic  dreams, 
and  not  the  sober  realities  which  every  genuine  follower  of 
Christ  may  and  must  experience.  'I'o  such  persons,  no  argu- 
ment will  be  so  conclusive,  and  no  appeal  so  forcible,  as  the 
fact,  that  individuals  of  the  most  penetrating  minds  have  avowed 
themselves  the  subjects  of  such  a  supernatural  change,  and 
evinced  the  truth  of  the  declaration  by  a  deportment  challeng- 
ing the  most  rigorous  scrutiny. 

In  the  subject  of  this  memoir  we  have  such  an  instance. 
Though  possessed  of  high  intellectual  capacity,  yet,  for  its  de- 
velo[)ment  and  direction  he  was  mainly,  if  not  wholly,  in- 
debted to  the  work  of  Divine  grace  upon  his  heart.  The  fac- 
ulties of  his  mind  were  thus  roused  into  activity,  and  conse- 
crated to  the  service  of  his  God  and  his  neighbour.  It  is  in 
connection  with  his  acknowledged  mental  superiority  that  his 
religious  profession  and  practice  are  deemed  of  public  impor- 
tance  ;  and  it  is  with  reference  to  his  religious  life,  and  his 
humble  origin,  that  his  literary  progress  is  chiefly  interesting. 
There  are,  we  believe,  thousands  and  lens  of  thousands  who 
can  testify  as  explicitly  as  he,  ''  that  the  Son  of  man  hath 
power  on  earth  to  forgive  sins,"  and  who  have  exemplified  as 
fully  "the  fruits  of  the  Spirit;"  but  there  are  few  of  the  pro- 
fessors of  this  "  vital  power  of  godliness"  whose  clear  sight- 
edness  and  habits  of  close  thinking  more  completely  exempt 
them  from  the  suspicion  of  enthusiasm  and  self-delusion. 

The  memoirs  of  a  merely  literary  man,  daily  pursuing  the 
same  or  similar  occupations,  and  secluded  in  his  study  from 


PRELIMINARY  RBMARKS. 


17 


the  changeful  scenery  of  human  life,  exhibit  few  of  those 
incidents  that  awaken  general  interest.  But  where  an  indi- 
vidual has  raised  himself  from  obscurity  by  superior  intelligence, 
— has  boldly  grappled,  in  the  outset  of  his  career,  with  the 
evils  of  ignorance  and  poverty — has  struggled  successfully 
against  the  opposing  current  of  circumstances,  and  won  for 
himself  honourable  renown  ;  and  all  this  commenced  in  the 
ardour  of  religious  feeling,  sustained  by  the  spirit  of  genuine 
piety,  and  prosecuted  throughout  in  sincere  and  faithful  reliance 
on  that  Almighty  Being  to  whom  all  his  abilities  and  successes 
were  ascribed  ;  not  only  is  our  curiosity  gratified,  and  our  ad- 
miration raised,  but  the  religion  of  Christ  is  exalted  in  our  esti- 
mation, and,  through  the  feelings  induced  by  such  an  example, 
our  hearts  are  made  better. 

Among  those  who  know  little  of  vital  Christianity  but  from 
the  caricatures  which  its  enemies  have  drawn,  and  of  which 
its  thoughtless  friends  sometimes  furnish  the  originals,  aa 
opinion  is  very  prevalent  that  it  is  inimical  to  scientific  pursuits. 
This,  however,  is  an  opinion  entirely  destitute  of  foundation  ; 
and  whatever  tends  to  undeceive  in  a  matter  so  important  must 
be  valuable  to  every  friend  of  religion,  and  every  lover  of  truth. 
If  those  views  of  Christianity  to  which  reference  has  been 
made  have  any  influence  on  the  pursuit  and  application  of  know- 
ledge, its  influence  must  be  beuefcial.  It  cannot  be  supposed 
that  those  convictions  of  the  justice,  goodness,  and  mercy  of 
God  which  fasten  on  the  mind  of  the  pious  believer,  will  indis- 
pose him  to  trace  out  the  wisdom  and  the  power  displayed  in  all 
the  works  of  Deity.  It  cannot  be  credited,  that  the  energetic 
principle  which  regulates  our  passions,  controls  our  temper,  and 
harmonizes  our  moral  system,  will  incapacitate  us  for  mental 
exercise  or  intellectual  enjoyment.  Nor  can  it  be  reasonably 
thought,  that  the  faith  which  supplies  a  purer  motive,  and  prom- 
ises a  more  glorious  reward,  than  wealth  or  fame,  will  furnish 
a  less  powerful' incentive  to  honourable  exertion. 

Without  yielding  the  truth  of  a  proposition  which  we  believe 
may  be  satisfactorily  established  upon  abstract  principles,  but 
which  it  would  be  foreign  to  our  present  purpose  to  pursue,  we 
may  confidently  leave  it  to  the  evidence  of  facts.  The  accu- 
mulation and  comparison  of  these  will  lead  to  the  conviction, 
that  the  religion  of  the  heart  is  favourable  to  the  highest  dis- 
plays of  the  intellect,  and  confirm  the  scriptural  declaration, 
that  "  godliness  is  profitable  for  all  things."  Each  succeeding 
generation  has  furnished  evidence  that  this  proposition  is  true  ; 
and  our  own  days  are  not  without  brilliant  examples. 
B2 


18 


LIFE  OF  SAMUIL  DREVf. 


SECTION  II. 
Family  Connections  and  Parentage. 

The  ancestors  of  Mr.  Drew  have  been  represented  as  re- 
spectable and  affluent ;  but  the  elderly  female  in  whose  memory 
the  family  archives  were  ciiiefly  deposited  having  been  several 
years  deceased,  with  her  are  gone  the  proofs  of  ancient  gen- 
tility. His  great-grandfather  came  from  Exeter  into  some  part 
of  (yornwaii,  w  here  he  kept  a  tavern  ;  and  a  son  of  his,  named 
Benjamin,  followed  the  father's  occupation  in  St.  Austell.  He  ' 
married  a.  person  of  considerable  property;  but  assuming  the 
rank  of  an  independent  gentleman,  and  plunging  into  dissipation 
and  extravagance,  he  squandered  his  substance,  and  brought 
himself  and  family  into  difficulties.  JNine  of  his  children, 
seven  of  whom  were  females,  lived  to  maturity.  Benjamin, 
the  elder  son,  settled  in  the  neighbouring  fishing  town  of  Meva- 
gissey,  where  the  junior  branches  of  his  family  still  reside. 
The  descendants  of  the  married  daughters  are  now  found  in  the 
Cornish  families  of  O.sler,  May,  Bayley,  Julyan,  and  Hockins. 

The  attention  of  Joseph,  the  second  son,  the  father  of  Samuel 
Drew,  was  first  directed  to  the  welfare  of  his  soul,  at  the  age 
of  eighteen,  under  a  sermon  of  the  reverend  George  Whitefield. 
"Witli  some  of  his  youthful  rompanions,  he  attended  the  out- 
door preaching  in  a  nei^hi)()uring  village,  as  a  matter  of  frolic  ; 
but,  like  many  who  were  attracted  in  those  days  by  its  novelty, 
though  he  "  went  to  scofl",''  lie  "  remained  to  pray."  The  truths 
of  religion  were  set  forth  in  a  manner  so  new  and  so  convincing, 
maintained  by  arguments  so  powerful,  and  enforced  by  eloquence 
so  resistless,  that  he  was  struck  to  the  heart.  He  returned  to 
his  father's  house  ;  but  finding  its  scenes  of  riot  and  dissipation 
perfectly  uncongenial  with  his  newly  acquired  feelings,  he  with- 
drew from  the  company  of  his  old  associates  ;  sought  opportu- 
nities for  secret  prayer  ;  and  diligently  attended  the  ministry 
of  Messrs.  Whitefield,  Wesley,  and  the  early  assistants  of 
their  itinerant  labours. 

it  is  not  to  be  supposed  that  this  alteration  in  his  deport- 
ment passed  unregarded  by  his  irreligious  relatives.  In  his 
case,  the  prediction  of  Christ  respecting  the  treatment  of  his 
followers,  that  "  a  man's  foes  shall  be  they  of  his  own  house- 


CHARACTKR  OF  HIS  PARE^TS. 


19 


hold,"  was  literally  verified.  A  storm  of  persecution  was  raised 
against  him,  and  "all  manner  of  evil  was  said  of  him  falsely" 
by  his  nearest  relatives.  But  he  sought  Divine  aid,  received 
it,  and  stood  unmoved. 

A  further  and  a  severer  trial,  however,  awaited  him.  From  all 
the  family  his  serious  deportment  had  subjected  him  to  acts 
of  unkindness  ;  but  from  hlsfather  he  experienced  the  most  cruel 
treatment.  Unrelenting  severity  was  exercised  towards  him, 
with  the  expectation  of  overcoming  his  resolution  ;  and  ere  long 
he  was  subjected  to  the  painful  alternative  of  giving  up  his  reli- 
gious duties  and  connections,  or  quilting  the  paternal  roof. 
Brought  up  to  no  business,  and  accustomed  to  a  life  of  indo- 
lence and  indulgence,  the  trial  to  him  was  most  painful.  Like 
Moses,  however,  he  chose  "  rather  to  sufler  affliction  with  the 
people  of  God,  than  to  enjoy  the  pleasures  of  sin  for  a  season." 

An  outcast  from  his  father's  house,  and  spurned  by  his  near- 
est kindred,  the  dissevering  of  the  ties  of  relationship  caused 
the  bonds  of  religious  union  to  be  the  more  closely  drawn.  He 
now  became  a  member  of  the  society  formed  by  the  Rev.  John 
"Wesley  in  St.  Austell,  and  continued  in  that  connection  to  his 
dying  day.  His  worldly  prospects  being  thus  sacrificed  for 
"peace  and  a  good  conscience,"  he  sought  a  means  of  liveli- 
hood suited  to  his  circumstances.  To  the  drudgery  of  daily 
labour  he  cheerfully  submitted  ;  and  in  "  the  sweat  of  his  face 
he  ate  bread,"'  until  a  late  period  of  life. 

In  the  year  1756,  when  about  twenty-six  years  of  age,  Joseph 
Drew  married  Susannah  Hooper,  who  died  childless  before  the 
end  of  three  years.  His  circumstances  could  not,  at  this  lime, 
have  been  more  favourable  than  when  he  was  driven  from  his 
father's  door;  for  he  was  considered  exceedingly  fortunate, 
and  raised  beyond  his  just  expectations,  in  marrying  a  person 
wlio,  had  she  outlived  her  parents,  would  have  been  entitled  to 
property  of  the  value  of  twenty  pounds. 

An  incident  connected  with  his  first  wife's  death  proves  how 
relentless  were  his  persecutors  and  slanderers.  Before  he  be- 
came the  subject  of  those  religious  convictions  which  so  influ- 
enced his  future  life,  he  one  day,  in  a  festive  party,  obtained 
possession  of  a  handsome  snufl"-box,  on  liie  singular  condition 
of  paying  two  guineas  upon  the  birth  of  his  first  child  ;  and  a 
formal  instrument  to  that  effect  being  drawn  up  and  executed, 
■was  witnessed  by  all  the  company.  Ten  years  after  this  trans- 
action, his  wife  dying  in  a  stale  of  pregnancy,  a  report  was 
industriously  circulated  by  some  of  his  former  companions, 
that  he  had  poisoned  her  to  avoid  paying  the  money.  So 


20 


LIFE  OF  SAMUEL  DREW. 


willing,  too,  were  the  public,  at  that  period,  to  believe  any  thing 
to  the  discredit  of  a  Methodist,  that  this  most  groundless  and 
injurious  allegation  was  very  extensively  credited,  and  years 
elapsed  before  the  prejudice  excited  against  its  blameless  sub- 
ject was  entirely  removed. 

That  the  religion  of  this  worthy  man  was  genuine,  and  the 
result  of  the  deepest  conviction,  is  sufficiently  evident,  from  the 
firmness  with  which  he  maintained  its  profession.  In  one  part 
of  a  diary  which  he  kept,  he  uses  these  words :  "  Oh !  how 
gladly  would  I  fly  into  the  arms  of  death,  or  to  the  fiery  stake, 
to  go  home  to  Jesus !"  Yet,  though  undaunted  in  the  cause  of 
that  faith  which  he  had  espoused,  his  mental  powers  were  not 
above  the  ordinary  standard.  He  was  naturally  timid  and  dif- 
fident ;  and,  without  referring  to  the  grace  of  God,  we  should 
find  it  diflicult  to  account  for  the  decision  of  character  which 
he  exhibited  in  his  religious  course.  For  his  situation  in  life, 
he,  like  his  brother  and  sisters,  had  been  well  educated; 
and  at  a  time  when  the  art  of  writing  was  of  rarer  attainment 
than  in  the  present  day,  he  was  said  to  be  the  best  scribe  in 
his  neighbourhood.  Among  the  religious  society  with  which 
he  was  connected  this  superior  education  gave  iiim  a  degree 
of  influence  which  his  personal  piety  confirmed  and  sustained. 
He  was  early  employed  as  a  religious  teacher,  both  in  the  ca- 
pacity of  class-leader  and  local  preacher  ;*  and  his  instruc- 
tions were  rendered  a  blessing  to  many  souls. 

*  To  those  readers  who  are  unacquainted  with  the  peculiarities  of  Me- 
thodism, it  may  be  necessary  to  state,  that  private  meetings  for  religious 
instruction  furni  one  of  its  distinguishing  features.  U.sually  from  ten  to 
twenty  individuals  of  the  society  associate  in  what  is  called  a  "  Class," 
under  the  direction  of  a  senior  member,  who  is  nominated  to  the  office  by 
the  superintending  minister.  This  person  is  the  "class-leader."  The 
individuals  under  liis  charge  are  expected  to  meet  together  once  a  week,  at 
a  fixed  time  and  [dace  ;  and  it  becomes  his  duty,  after  a  short  introductory 
prayer,  to  ask  each  such  questions,  and  giv£  such  advice,  as  he  thinks 
will  promote  personal  i>iety.  These  "  class  meetings"  are  generally  limited 
to  an  hour,  and  are  concluded,  as  they  are  begun,  with  singing  and  prayer. 
According  to  niethodistic  discipline,  every  member  of  the  Methodist 
society  must  belong  to  a  class  ;  and  every  class  must  be  visited  once  a 
quarter  by  the  "travelling  preacher,"  who,  after  satisfying  himself  of 
the  filucss  of  each  individual,  by  personal  inquiry,  gives  him  or  her  a  note 
or  ticket,  as  a  token  of  membership.  'I'he  class-leaders  are  themselves 
subject  to  the  preachers'  fre(pient  KU|i<'rvision,  with  reference  to  their  per- 
sonal conduct,  and  that  of  the  individuals  committed  to  their  charge. 

Among  the  Methodists,  a  local  preacher  is  not  especially  set  apart  for 
the  ministerial  office,  so  as  to  devote  to  it  his  whole  time  and  attention  ; 
but  is  employed  as  an  occasional  teacher  on  the  Sabbath.  His  labours  ar« 
generally  confined  to  the  circuit,  or  near  neighbourhood,  of  the  place  where 


CHARACTER  OF   HIS  PAliENTS. 


21 


Thomasin.  his  second  wife,  the  mother  of  Samuel  Drew,  he 
married  in  1762.  Her  maiden  name  was  Osborne.  Herfatlier 
was  a  gardener  in  the  neighbourhood  of  iMevagissey,  wliere 
her  paternal  grandfather  had  settled  in  early  life  in  ihe  same 
business — having  come  from  Somersetshire,  his  native  county. 
She  also  was  a  Methodist ;  and  though  she  died  of  consump- 
tion before  her  son  Samuel  was  ten  years  of  age,  he  describes 
her,  from  his  recollections,  as  a  woman  of  strong,  masculine 
understanding;  "of  courage  and  zeal  in  the  cause  of  God 
■which  nothing  could  damp  ;  and  ready  to  brave  every  hard- 
ship that  the  discharge  of  duty  might  render  necessary."  IShe 
was,  indeed,  a  remarkable  woman.  Born  of  parents  who  were 
unable  to  do  rhore  than  j)rocure  for  their  children  and  them- 
selves the  necessaries  of  life,  her  education  had  been  greatly, 
if  not  totally,  neglected.  When,  in  early  womanhood,  her 
heart  first  was  affected  by  the  truths  of  religion,  through  the 
preaching  of  Mr.  Wesley,  it  is  uncertain  whether  she  could 
read,  and  it  is  known  that  she  could  not  write.  She  applied 
all  the  energies  of  her  mind  to  overcome  these  obstructions  to 
knowledge;  and  it  is  said,  that  in  both  reading  and  writing  she 
was  entirely  self-taught.  Nor  was  it  the  mere  ability  to  read 
and  write  that  she  acquired.  The  specimen  of  her  penmanship 
which  the  writer  of  this  memoir  has  seen  is  apparently  the 
firm,  bold  character  of  a  practised  hand  ;  and  the  following  ex- 
tract from  a  manuscript  of  hers  proves  that  she  must  have 
made  some  proficiency  in  the  art  of  composition. 

"  'Come  out  from  among  them,  and  be  ye  separate,  and 
touch  not  the  unclean  thing,  and  I  will  receive  you,  and  will  be 
a  Father  unto  you,  and  ye  shall  be  my  sons  and  daughters, 
saith  the  Lord  Almighty.'  Here  is  a  privilege  I  would  not 
barter  for  a  world !  to  be  a  daughter  of  the  Lord  Almighty, 
the  King  of  kings,  the  Omnipotent  God,  the  Sovereign  of  the 
universe  !  If  I  am  his  child,  adopted  into  his  family,  by  faith  in 
his  Son  Jesus  Christ,  all  his  attributes  are  at  work  for  my 
good.  His  grace  is  mine,  his  wisdom  is  mine,  his  power  is  mine  ; 
for  he  is  made  imto  me  '  wisdom,  sancaification,  and  redemp- 
tion.' He  hath  promised  that  '  all  things  shall  work  together  for 
good  to  them  lliat  love  him.'  His  cross  is  mine,  his  crown  is 
mine,  his  peace  is  mine,  his  patielice  is  mine,  his  heaven  is  mine. 

he  resides  ;  and  as  he  is  supposed  to  follow  his  secular  occupation,  he 
receives  no  remuneration  for  his  ministerial  services.  In  some  circuits 
the  local  preachers  pay  their  own  unavoidable  travelling  expenses.  No 
class  ot  ministers  can  be  more  disinterested  than  this. 


22 


LIFE  OF  SAMUEL  DREW. 


"  '  Of  him,  and  through  him,  and  to  him,  are  all  things  :  to 
whom  be  glory  for  ever.  Amen.' — Of  thee,  O  eternal  Bene- 
factor !  I  had  this  hand  with  which  I  am  now  writing  ;  thou 
gavest  me  my  eyes,  to  look  on  ail  thy  wondrous  works ;  all 
my  senses  are  tliine  :  assist  me,  0  Lord,  and  I  will  employ 
them  to  thy  glory.  As  I  have  heretofore  '  yielded  my  mem- 
bers instruments  of  unrighteousness  unto  sin,'  so,  for  the  time 
to  come,  I  will  (through  thy  grace)  'yield  my  members  ser- 
vants to  righteousness  unto  holiness,'  that  my  end  may  be 
'everlasting  life.'  What  small  degree  of  knowledge  I  have  is 
thine,  and  shall  be  employed  for  tiiee.  What  learning  thou 
hast  bestowed  on  me  shall  not  henceforth  be  prostituted  to 
Satan,  as  it  has  in  times  past.  If  I  have  any  wisdom,  it  is 
thine,  and  shall  be  used  for  thee.  My  memory,  O  Lord,  do 
thou  sanctify ;  that  it  may  retain  nothing  but  what  shall  be 
profitable  for  me,  and  help  me  onward  in  the  way  to  thy  king- 
dom. Thou  hast  given  me  a  voice;  and  to  sing  thy  praises  it 
shall  be  devoted.    All  that  I  have  and  am  is  thine.    Take  me, 

0  Lord,  body,  soul,  and  spirit ;  mould  me  into  thine  own  glo- 
rious likeness  ;  make  me  '  a  vessel  to  honour,  meet  for  the 
Master's  use ;'  and  then  appoint  me  labour,  or  toil,  or  suf- 
fering, or  death,  if  it  seem  good  in  thy  sight.  Only  give  me 
Strength  to  bear  it,  and  I  will  gladly  '  take  up  my  cross  and 
follow  thee.' 

"  '  To  you  that  believe  he  is  precious.' — Oh !  my  eternal 
Friend  and  Lover,  thou  art  precious  to  my  soul  !  more  pre- 
cious than  the  gold  of  Ophir !  the  pearls  of  Ethiopia  cannot 
equal  thee  in  my  esteem.  Thou  art  tliat  wisdom  that  stood 
by  God,  at  his  right-hand,  when  he  made  the  world,  and  all 
that  is  therein.  0  !  make  me  a  possessor  of  thyself,  the  only 
true  wisdom,  the  life  divine,  the  pearl  of  great  price  ! 

"  '  'I'hey  that  sow  in  tears  shall  reap  in  joy.' — Grant  me 
this  portion,  O  my  God  !  and  deny  me  what  else  thou  pleasest. 

1  appeal  to  thee,  that  I  bow  not  my  knees  for  any  temporal 
good  ;  I  desire  not  a  portion  with  the  great;  I  only  ask  thy 
grace  to  keep  me  unspotted  from  the  world,  and  to  fit  and  pre- 
pare me  for  thy  kingdom.  Amen." 

Such  were  the  parents  of  Samuel  Drew.  His  mother''s 
abilities  he  appears  to  have  especially  inherited  :  in  tlie  other 
children,  the  qualities  of  both  father  and  mother  were  blended. 
Their  piety,  not  being  a  natural  property,  could  not  be  trans- 
mitted ;  but,  by  the  grace  of  God,  the  children  were  made  par- 
takers of  that  salvation  which  their  parents  so  fully  experienced. 


H13  BIRTH. 


23 


SECTION  III. 

Birth  of  Samuel  Drew — Poverty  of  his  parents — Anecdotes  of  his  child- 
hood— His  education — His  mother's- death — Employed  at  a  stamping 
mill — Moral  debasement,  and  its  cause. 

In  a  solitary  cottage  in  the  parish  of  St.  Austell,  and  rather 
more  than  a  mile  eastward  from  the  town,  resided  the  pious 
couple  whom  we  have  just  described.  Their  dwelling  was 
very  mean,  containing  a  single  ground-room  and  two  bed- 
rooms ;  and  at  one  end  of  it  was  a  mill,  used  to  break  lumps 
of  tin  ore,  once  known  by  the  name  of  Penhale's  mill,  but  no 
longer  existing  as  such,  having  been  converted,  several  years 
since,  into  a  habitation.  About  half  an  acre  of  enclosed  ground 
belonged  to  the  cottage,  with  which,  and  the  pasturage  of  the 
adjoining  commen,  they  managed  to  keep  a  cow.  In  this  resi- 
dence they  had  four  children.  Their  second  son,  the  subject 
of  this  memoir,  was  born  on  the  3d  of  March,  1765,  and 
baptized  in  the  parish  church,  on  the  24lh  of  the  same 
month,  by  the  name  of  Samuel.  Jabez,  the.  eldest,  who  was 
two  years  Samuel's  senior,  died  at  the  age  of  twenty-two  ;  and 
the  third  child,  Ephraim,  in  infancy.  Thomasin,  the  youngest, 
is  the  only  survivor ;  and  to  her  recollections  the  writer  is  in- 
debted for  many  of  the  facts  relating  to  her  brother's  early  life. 

At  this  period,  th^  father's  occupation  fluctuated  between 
that  of  husbandman  and  what,  in  Cornwall  and  Devonshire,  is 
called  "  streaming  for  tin :"  that  is,  searching  the  soil  and  sub- 
soil, examining  the  deposites  of  mountain  streams,  and  selecting, 
by  the  process  of  washing  and  pulverizing,  such  parts  as  are 
valuable.  By  diligence  and  care,  he  was  enabled  to  lay  by  a 
luile  money  ;  and  soon  after  the  birth  of  the  youngest  child, 
he  took  a  better  house,  with  two  or  three  fields,  at  Fernissick, 
a  short  distance  from  his  old  habitation.  Here,  with  his  scanty 
capital,  he  procured  a  cart  and  horses,  and  with  them  found 
employment  as  a  carrier.  Afterward  he  became  acquainted 
with  a  venerable  Quaker,  whose  son  had  lately  established  a 
malthouse  and  brewery  in  the  neighbourhood ;  and  being  en- 
gaged by  the  latter  to  carry  oirt  his  malt  and  beer,  was  fully 
occupied.    For  some  time  the  business  in  this  establishment 


LFIE  OF  SAMUEL  DREW. 


looked  very  imposing ;  but  the  brewer  regarding  pleasure  more 
than  traffic,  insolvency  soon  followed.  Several  pounds  were 
due  to  the  poor  carrier,  which  could  not  be  obtnined  ;  and  he 
was  left,  without  fodder  for  his  cattle,  or  food  for  his  children, 
to  mourn  his  loss,  and  seek  for  himself  and  team  some  other 
employment. 

Although  the  parents  were  extremely  poor,  '.hey  made  every 
effort  to  give  their  children  a  little  education.  For  a  while; 
the  two  boys  were  sent  daily  to  St.  Austell,  to  a  school,  where 
the  charge  forpupils  in  reading  only  was,  we  believe,  a  penny 
a  week.  Jabez  took  great  delight  in  learning,  and  in  a  short 
time  made  considerable  proficiency  in  writing  and  arithmetic  ; 
but  Samuel's  mind  seemed  to  have  been  formed  in  a  different 
mould.  Book-learning  had  no  charms  for  him  ;  and  he  was 
more  disposed  to  play  truant  than  attend  school.  With  this 
disposition,  he  was  not  likely  to  excel,  had  the  opportunity 
been  afforded  him.  Yet  he  frequently  exhibited  a  considerable 
degree  of  shrewdness  and  resolution,  instances  of  which  are 
yet  in  the  recollection  of  those  who  knew  him  in  childhood. 

One  of  his  juvenile  perforinances,  related  by  himself,  indi- 
cates, at  a  very  early  age,  a  habit  of  perseverance.  It  had  not 
indeed  the  character  of  utility  ;  but  of  that  he  was  then  too 
young  to  judge.  "When  I  was  about  six  years  old,  I  felt 
much  interested  in  the  different  parts  of  the  process  of  mining, 
and  was  very  ambitious  of  sinking  a  shaft.  I  prevailed  on 
my  brother  and  another  boy  to  join  me,  and  we  commenced 
operations  somewhere  near  our  house.  I,  though  tiie  young- 
est, was  captain  ;  and  having  procured  a  board  and  rope,  with 
a  pick  and  shovel,  one  drew  up  with  the  rope  what  the  others 
dug  out.  We  must  have  followed  our  task  a  considerable 
time,  and  sunk  our  shaft  several  feet,  wh^i  my  father  put  an 
end  to  our  mining  operations.  A  handful  of  earth  being  thrown 
into  the  pit  while  I  was  at  work,  I  could  not,  on  account  of  its 
depth,  discover  the  aggressor  ;  but  supposing  it  to  be  one  of 
my  comrades,  I  ordered  him  to  desist,  and  on  its  being 
repeated,  I,  in  virtue  of  my  office  as  captain,  threatened  him 
with  correction.  To  my  great  mortification,  my  father  then 
discovered  himself,  ordered  me  to  ascend,  pointed  out  how  dan- 
gerous the  pit  would  be  to  the  cattle,  and  as  a  punisliment  for 
our  clandestine  proceeding,  assigned  us  the  task  of  filling  it 
in  again."* 

*  Dr.  Franklin,  in  narrating  his  boyish  adventures,  alludes  to  an  inci- 
dent as  an  early  indication  of  the  same  valuable  quality  of  perseverance, 
and  that  disposition  to  promote  works  ol  public  utility  which  bo  remark- 


HIS   MOTHEU's  INSTRUCTION. 


25 


Possessing  exuberant  animal  spirits,  Samuel  often  annoyed 
his  parents  by  his  pranks.  For  some  mischief  which  he  had 
done,  his  father  threatened  him  with  punishment,  but  did  not 
hiform  him  when  or  how  it  was  to  be  inflicted.  The  next 
morning,  on  going  to  school,  he  was  furnished  with  a  note  to 
his  master,  which,  on  subsequent  inquiry,  was  found  not  to 
have  been  delivered.  On  being  aslied  what  lie  had  done  with 
the  note,  he  confessed  that  he  had  destroyed  it,  because  he  sus- 
pected it  to  contain  an  order  for  punishment.  His  craftiness 
was  not  always  so  innoxious  as  this.  At  one  time,  having 
incurred  liis  father's  displeasure,  he  was  threatened  v/ith  chas- 
tisement ;  a  sentence  which,  when  once  passed,  he  knew  was 
sure  to  be  executed,  and  which  was  commonly  inflicted  on  the 
culprit  in  bed.  Apprehensive  of  such  a  visit,  Samuel  prevailed 
on  his  unsuspecting  brother  to  exchange  places  with  him  for 
the  night ;  and  the  stripes  were  thus  transferred  from  the  guilty 
to  the  innocent. 

By  his  vivacious  disposition,  he  seemed  altogether  unfitted 
to  receive  instruction  through  the  ordinary  channel.  This  his 
invaluable  mother  soon  perceived,  and  therefore  took  him 
imder  her  own  charge.  From  her  principally  he  acquired  the 
ability  to  read,  and  to  her  and  his  brother  he  was  indebted  for 
the  little  knowledge  of  writing  which  he  attained  in  childhood. 

But  there  was  a  more  important  species  of  instruction  which 
this  excellent  woman  was  anxious  to  communicate  to  her 
children.  Their  moral  cultivation  she  justly  regarded  as  of 
higher  moment  than  even  the  most  necessary  pans  of  human 
learning,  especially  in  tlie  early  dawning  of  reason.  Scientific 
knowledge  may  be  more  or  less  advantageous  in  after-life, 
according  to  situation  and  circumstances  ;  but  all  men  are  re- 
sponsible as  moral  agents  ;  and  it  is  the  imperative  duty  ol 
parents  to  give  their  children  a  correct  knowledge  of  their  duty 
to  God  and  man,  whether  they  have  the  means  of  imparting 
other  instruction  or  not.  The  knowledge  tliat  relates  to  the 
ordinary  concerns  of  life  may  lie  forgotten  :  correct  princi-i 
pies,  once  infused  into  the  mind,  and  clearly  apprehended 

at)ly  characterized  hira  in  after-life.  FinJing  the  place  where  they  were 
accustomed  to  take  their  station  for  fishing  sometimes  inaccessible  at  flood- 
tide,  he  prevailed  on  his  companions  to  join  him  in  constructing  a  wharf ; 
and  though  they  had  many  obstacles,  they  persevered,  and  accomplished 
their  object.  "  Yet,"  he  remarks,  "  we  did  it  at  the  expense  of  honesty  ; 
for  we  stole  our  materials,  which  we  were  reluctantly  conipelleu  lo 
restore  ;  not  exactly  comprehending  then,  what  my  father  endeavouxecj 
to  show  us,  that  utility  may  be  compromised  by  the  absence  of  justice^" 


26 


LIFE   OF   SAMUEL  DREW. 


there,  ran  never  be  eradicated.  They  may  be  neglefted, — • 
ihey  may  be  perverted  ;  but  the  consciousness  of  their  truth 
will  remain  ;  for  the  judgment  recognises,  and  the  conscience 
approves,  what  the  will  too  often  disavows.  The  seeds  of  some 
plants  retain  their  vital  principle  to  an  unknown  period.  For 
years  they  may  remain  buried  in  the  soil,  at  a  depih  unfavour- 
al)le  to  vegetation,  and  show  no  sign  of  vitalii}'  or  corruj)iion. 
But  let  them  be  j)hiced  witliiii  the  influence  of  fertilizing  show- 
ers and  the  solar  l  ays, —  their  germinating  powr  will  be  called 
forth,  and  they  will  presently  s]n-ing  up  inio  light  and  life. 

With  what  success  the  labours  of  Mr.  Drew's  mother  were 
attended  was  not  immediately,  nor  for  many  years,  seen  ;  but 
when  her  son  attained  to  manhood,  llie  fruits  of  her  teaching 
became  evident.  How  deep  was  the  impression  made  on  his 
mind  at  the  tender  age  in  which  she  became  his  teacher,  care- 
less and  ihougluless  as  he  seemed  to  be,  will  best  appear  in 
the  intense  feeling  with  which  his  recollections  of  her  were 
always  imbued. 

"1  well  remember,"  he  said,  but  a  few  weeks  before  his 
decease,  "  in  my  early  days,  when  my  mother  was  alive,  that 
she  invariably  took  my  brother  and  me  by  the  hand,  and  led 
us  to  the  house  of  prayer.  Her  kind  advice  and  instruction 
were  unremitting  ;  and  even  when  death  had  closed  her  eyes 
in  darkness,  the  impression  remained  long  upon  my  mind,  and 
I  sighed  for  a  companion  to  accompany  me  thither.  On  one 
occasion,  I  well  recollect,  we  were  returning  from  the  chapel, 
at  St.  Austell,  on  a  bright  and  beautiful  starlight  night,  when 
my  mother  pointed  out  the  stars  as  the  work  of  an  Almighty 
Parent,  to  whom  we  were  indebted  for  every  blessing.  Struck 
with  her  representation,  1  fell  a  degree  of  gratitude  and  adora- 
tion which  no  language  could  express,  and  through  nearly  all 
the  night  enjoyed  ineffable  rapture." 

It  was  the  will  of  a  mysterious  Providence,  in  October,  1774, 
to  remove  this  affectionate  parent,  by  consumption,  from  her 
sorrowing  family.  She  was  then,  according  to  a  memorandinn 
of  her  husband,  about  forty-four  years  of  age,  and  her  son 
Samuel  nine.*  Though  of  a  rude  and  reckless  disposition,  he 
was  not  without  experiencing  the  utmost  anguish  at  his  mother's 
death.    His  sensations  on  this  event  he  seems  never  to  have 

*  Mr.  D.  once  said  to  a  friend,  "When  we  were  following  my  mother 
to  the  grave,  I  well  recollect  a  woman  observing  as  we  passed,  '  Poor 
little  things!  they  little  know  the  loss  they  have  sustained.'"  This 
shows  how  deeply  minute  circumstances,  relative  to  his  bereavement, 
were  impressed  on  bis  childish  memory 


DEATH   OF   HIS  MOTHER. 


27 


forgotten  ;  and  in  his  first  metrical  attempt  which  now  exists, 
the  poignancy  of  iiis  grief  found  a  vent. 

"  These  eyes  have  seen  a  tender  mother  torn 
From  three  small  babes  she  left  behind  to  mourn. 
One  infant  son  retired  from  life  before  ; 
Next  followed  she,  whose  loss  I  now  deplore. 
This  throbbing  I)reasl  has  heaved  the  heartfelt  sigh, 
And  breathed  afflictions  where  her  ashes  lie. 
Relentless  tieath  !  to  rob  my  younger  years 
Of  soft  indulgence  and  a  mother's  cares  ; 
Just  brought  to  life,  then  left  without  a  guide. 
To  wade  through  time,  and  grapple  with  the  tide !" 

Several  years  after  composing  the  preceding  lines,  he  says, 
in  a  letter  to  a  literary  gentleman  who  had  kindly  interested 
himself  in  his  welfare,  and  wished  to  know  the  history  of  his 
early  life,  "On  visiting  my  mother's  grave,  with  one  of  my 
children,  I  wrote  the  following.  The  first  couplet  is  supposed 
to  be  spoken  by  the  child. 

"  '  Why  looks  my  father  on  that  If.ttered  stone,* 
And  seems  to  sigh  with  sorrows  not  his  own?' 
'  That  stone,  my  dear,  conceals  from  human  eyes 
The  peaceful  mansion  where  my  mother  lies. 
Beneath  this  stone  (my  infant,  do  not  weep  '.) 
The  shrivelled  muscles  of  my  mother  sleep  ; 
And  soon,  my  babe,  the  awful  hour  must  be 
When  thy  sad  soul  will  heave  a  si^h  for  me. 
And  say,  with  grief  amid  thy  sister's  cries, 
'  BcneaLh  this  stone  our  lifeless  parent  lies.' 
Shouldst  thou,  my  dear,  survive  thy  father's  doom, 
And  wander  pensive  near  his  silent  tomb. 
Think  till/  survivors  will  perform  for  thee, 
What  /  do  now,  and  thou  wilt  then  for  me.' " 

That  one  who,  like  this  pious  female,  had  lived  the  life, 
would  "  die  the  death,  of  the  righteous,"  every  reader  will 
naturally  anticipate.  Her  trust  in  the  atonement  was  firm — 
the  evidence  of  her  acceptance  clear — her  death  triumphant. 
She  departed  this  life  in  the  full  assurance  of  faith,  leaving  to 
her  children,  as  a  legacy,  her  Christian  example. 

Rather  more  than  a  year  before  the  mother's  death,  the  pa- 

*  "  Stone  is  a  mere  poetical  figure.  My  mother's  grave  has  no  such 
ornament.  My  father's  circumstances  would  not  allow  it,  if  he  had  been 
inclined  to  erect  one. — I  am  unacquainted  with  the  rules  of  art,  and  the 
orderly  methods  of  composition.  I  wr  jte  these  lines  from  the  impulses 
of  my  own  feelings  and  the  dictates  of  nature." 


28 


LIFE  OF  SAMUEL  DREW. 


rents  found  it  necessary  to  take  their  boys  from  school,  that, 
by  manual  labour,  they  might  assist  in  their  own  maintenance ; 
Jabez  helped  his  father  in  their  little  farm,  and  Samuel  was 
employed  at  a  neighbouring  stamping-mill,  probably  that 
attached  to  the  house  where  he  first  drew  breath. 

For  Cornish  readers  it  is  needless  to  describe  the  process  of 
cleansing  tin  ores ;  but  for  others,  a  few  words  of  explanation 
may  be  necessary. 

The  mineral,  as  it  is  found  below  the  surface,  is  imbedded 
in,  or  combined  with,  other  substances  of  no  value ;  the  pro- 
portion of  refuse  far  exceeding  the  ore.  The  stony  mass  in 
which  it  is  commonly  lodged,  when  broken  by  hammers  to  a 
convenient  size,  is  submitted  to  the  action  of  tlie  stamping-mill, 
where  it  is  pulverized.  This  machine  is  of  very  simple  con- 
struction. Heavy  iron  weights,  termed  stamp-heads,  are 
attached  to  perpendicular  beams  of  wood,  which  are  kept  in 
their  position  by  a  strong  frame.  These  beams  are  lifted  suc- 
cessively by  the  revolution  of  a  waier-whcel ;  and  by  their 
weight,  and  the  momentum  of  their  fall,  the  substance  below  is 
reduced  to  powder.  Tlie  pulverized  material  is  then  carried  by 
a  small  stream  of  water  into  shallow  pits  prepared  for  its  re- 
ception, where  the  gravity  of  the  mineral  causes  it  to  sink,  while 
the  sandy  particles  pass  off  with  the  stream.  This,  however, 
does  not  produce  a  sufficient  separation.  Children  are  era- 
ployed  to  stir  up  the  deposite  in  the  pits,  and  keep  it  in  agitation, 
until  this  part  of  the  separating  process  is  complete.  These 
pits  are  called  huddles ;  and  they  give  name  to  the  occupation 
of  the  children  who  labour  at  them. 

At  the  tender  age  of  eight,  Samuel  Drew  began  to  work  as  a 
huddle-hoy.  For  his  services  his  father  was  to  receive  three 
halfpence  a  day  ;  but  when  the  wages  of  eight  weeks  had  ac- 
cumulated in  the  hands  of  the  employer,  he  became  insolvent, 
and  the  poor  boy's  first  earnings  were  lost.  The  mill  being  now 
occupied  by  aiiotlier  person,  the  wages  were  raised  to  twopence 
a  day,  the  higiiest  sum  Samuel  realized  in  that  employment, 
though  he  continued  to  work  at  it  more  than  two  years. 

"  I  well  remember,"  he  once  said,  "  how  much  I  and  the 
other  boys  were  elated  at  this  advance  of  wages.  Not  that  we 
were  personally  benefited,  ar  our  friends  received  the  money ; 
but  it  added,  in  thought,  to  our  importance.  One  of  my  com- 
panions, very  little  older  than  myself,  lived  with  an  aunt,  who, 
on  the  death  of  his  parents,  had  kindly  brought  him  up.  The 
additional  halfpenny  a  day  so  elevated  him  in  his  own  opinion, 
that  he  very  gravely  went  home,  and  gave  his  aunt  notice,  that. 


HIS  MORAL  DEBASEMENT. 


29 


as  soon  as  his  wages  became  due,  he  should  seek  new  lodgings, 
and  board  himself.  By  the  timely  application  of  the  rod  she 
convinced  him  that  the  season  of  independence  had  not  yet 
arrived  ;  and  he  returned  to  his  labour  rather  crest-fallen.  For 
myself,  my  ambition  prompted  me  to  aspire  to  the  rack,  another 
part  of  the  refining  process,  but  to  that  dignity  I  never  was 
promoted." 

Associated  in  this  occupation  with  wicked  children,  he  suf- 
fered by  the  pernicious  influence  of  their  conversation  and 
example.  While  his  mother  lived,  she  laboured  to  counteract 
the  moral  contagion  to  which  she  saw  her  child  thus  una- 
voidably exposed;  but  on  her  death  its  deteriorating  effects 
received  but  little  check.  "  It  may  be  asked,"  observes  Mr. 
Drew,  in  a  short  sketch  of  his  early  life  which  he  dictated  to 
one  of  his  children  just  before  his  last  illness,  "  as  my  father 
was  a  serious  man,  why  did  he  not  step  forth,  on  my  mother's 
death,  to  supply  her  place  1  The  reason  is  obvious,  though  by 
no  means  satisfactory.  Being  employed  as  a  local  preacher 
among  the  Methodists,  every  Sunday  he  was  called  upon  to 
fulfil  his  appointments,  while  the  moral  and  religious  culture  of 
his  children  was  comparatively  neglected.  This  system  of 
employing  persons  to  preach  on  the  Sabbath  who  have  very 
little  time  to  instruct  their  families  during  the  week,  I  consider 
to  be  a  serious  evil,  and  one  that  needs  especial  correction. 
Such  being  my  father's  case,  it  may  naturally  be  supposed 
that  any  serious  impressions  resulting  from  my  mother's  in- 
structions soon  vanished.  I  had  no  one  to  take  me  by  the 
hand ;  and  with  precept  and  example  I  was  now,  in  a  great 
measure,  unacquainted." 

The  moral  injury  which  Mr.  Drew  thus  sustained,  he  has 
more  than  once  pointed  out  in  the  case  of  others.  That  Chris- 
tians are  to  love  their  neighbours  as  them.^elves,  and  to  promote 
their  welfare,  is  unquestionable.  Nor  is  it  less  certain,  that  he 
who  possesses  a  thorough  and  experimental  acquaintance  with 
the  truths  of  religion,  and  the  ability  of  communicating  them  to 
others,  should  embrace  the  opportunities  afforded  him  of  im- 
parting this  knowledge.  But  let  him  consider  well  what  these 
opportunities  are.  and  to  what  extent  his  duty  to  the  public  is 
to  take  precedence  of  that  which  he  owes  to  his  immediate 
connections.  Let  him  remember  that  there  are  frequently  con- 
flicting duties,  the  relative  claims  of  which  it  requires  much 
thought,  and  much  of  the  Divine  guidance,  satisfactorily  to 
determine.  Neither  should  he  forget  the  apostolic  declaration, 
"If  anv  provide  not  for  his  own,  and  specially  for  those  of  his 
C  2 


30 


LIFE   OF  SAMUEL  DREW. 


own  house,  instruction  as  well  as  food  and  raiment,  he  hath 
denied  the  faith,  and  is  worse  than  an  infidel." 

The  proper  government  and  instruction  of  his  family  is  a 
Christian  parent's  first  duly,  and  can  never  be  superseded.  A 
conviction  that  this  duty  is  imperative,  and  a  recollection  of  the 
injury  he  sustained  from  his  father's  hiattention  to  it,  led  Mr. 
Drew,  when  iiis  own  children  were  growing  up,  to  refuse  any 
appointment,  as  a  preai^her,  that  would  not  leave  him  every 
third  Sabbath  at  liis  entire  disposal. 

The  evil  which  has  occasioned  these  remarks  we  do  not 
charge  on  the  Wesleyan  system  as  a  necessary  consequence, 
or  a  common  defect.  Yet  it  is  a  false  movement  to  which  tliis 
part  of  the  machinery  of  Methodism  is  liable,  without  the  con- 
stant vigilance  of  those  to  whom  its  direction  is  confided. 


SECTION  IV. 

Samuel's  temper  in  boyhood — Apprenticed  to  a  shoemaker — Harsh  usage 
— Evil  habits — Anecdotes  and  incidents — .'Absconds  from  his  master's 
service — Consequent  hardships— Returns  to  his  father's  house. 

.  The  happy  art  of  securing  the  attachment  of  his  children, 
and  governing  them  by  affection,  IMr.  Drew's  Hither  appears 
not  to  have  possessed.  He  displayed  more  of  paternal  au- 
thority than  pnrrntiil  love.  To  the  latter,  which  was  the  most 
prominent  fcatuir  in  his  mother's  character,  Samuel  h.ad 
always  yielded  ;  to  the  former  he  was  not  sufficiently  disposed 
to  submit.  'I'ho'.igh  aircttionatc,  tender-hearted,  and  gener- 
ous, where  a  similar  disposition  wa.i manifested  towards  him, 
he  not  unfreqnently  bioke  out  into  open  rebellion  against  his 
father's  government.  "  His  mind,"'  says  his  sister,  "  always 
seemed  above  control ;  for,  while  my  eldest  brother  and  I 
trembled  at  our  faihcr's  voit'C,  he  would  deride  our  weakness  ; 
and  more  than  once  has  said  to  us,  'You  almost  worship 
father,  as  if  he  were  a  little  deity.'  "  To  this  fearless  tem- 
per was  added  a  vein  of  sarcasm  unusual  in  one  so  youn^. 
Grieved  as  his  father  often  was  at  his  wayward  conduct,  the 
lively  sallies  of  the  child  amused  him  ;  and  he  observed  one 
day  to  his  other  children,  "That  boy,  ungovernable  as  he  is, 
lias  more  sense  than  all  of  ns." 

Not  long  after  die  death  of  his  wife,  Samuel's  father  had  aa 


HIS  APPilENTICESniP. 


31 


elderly  widow,  named  Bate,  as  his  housekeeper;  in  wiiicii  ca- 
pacity she  served  him  faitiifully,  and  was  very  attentive  to  the 
children.  In  tiie  second  year  of  his  widowhood  he  married 
iier ;  and  though,  as  a  servant,  tiie  children  and  she  were  on 
the  most  friendly  terms,  yet,  into  the  station  of  mother  and  mis- 
tress they  seemed  to  think  her  an  intruder.  Jabez,  the  elder, 
refused  to  address  her  by  her  new  appellation  ;  and  Samuel, 
though  she  treated  them  all  with  the  utmost  kindness,  con- 
trived, in  various  ways,  to  show  his  spleen.  About  the  time  of 
her  marriage,  some  female  acquaintances  visiting  her,  Samuel 
provided  himself  with  a  syringe  and  vessel  of  water  secretly, 
and  having  made  a  gimlet-hole  through  the  partition  of  the 
room,  he  discharged  his  artillery  among  the  company  at  their 
tea.  This  was  more  than  his  step-mother  could  brook. 
Though  kind,  she  was  a  woman  of  violent  temper  ;  and  this, 
added  to  other  annoyances  which  she  had  received  from  him, 
led  shortly  to  his  removal  from  his  father's  house. 

At  the  age  of  ten  years  and  a  half  Samuel  Drew  was  ap- 
prenticed to  a  shoemaker  named  Baker,  at  Tregrehan  mill,  in 
the  parish  of  St.  Blazey,  and  about  three  miles  from  St.  Aus- 
tell tov.'n.  His  term  of  apprenticeship  was  nine  j'ears  ;  but  he 
did  not  remain  till  its  expiration.  The  master's  house  was 
delightfully  situated,  in  a  I'ertile  valley  adjoining  the  mansion 
and  grounds  of  the  wealthy  family  of  the  Carlyons.  It  was, 
however,  too  secluded  a  spot  for  business  ;  and  a  boy  of  uncul- 
tivated mind  has  little  taste  for  t!ie  beautiful  or  tlie  picturesque. 
AVhen  he  was  first  aj^prenticed  his  father  lived  at  Parr,  in  St. 
Blazey  ;  but  removing  soon  after  to  the  tenement  of  Polpea,  in 
T3'wardreaili,  the  poor  lad's  intercourse  with  his  relatives  was 
suspended,  and  he  felt  all  the  loneliness  of  his  situ-.ition. 

In  the  short  narrative  from  which  a  quniation  lias  already 
been  made,  Mr.  Drew  says,  "Tvly  new  a!)0(lc  at  St.  Blazey, 
and  new  engagements,  were  far  from  being  pleasing.  To 
any  of  the  comforts  and  conveniences  of  life  I  was  an  entire 
stranger;  and  by  every  member  of  the  family  was  viewed  as  an 
underling,  come  thiilicr  to  subserve  their  wishes,  or  obe)^  their 
mandates.  To  his  trade  of  shoemaker  my  master  added  that 
of  farmer.  He  had  a  few  acres  of  ground  under  his  care,  and 
was  a  sober,  industrious  mriii :  hut,  niil'.jriiniately  for  me,  nearly 
one-half  of  my  time  was  taken  i:p  in  ;i;;riv  >iUnral  pursuits.  On 
this  account  1  made  no  proficiency  in  my  business,  and  felt  no 
solicitude  to  rise  above  the  farmers'  boys  with  whom  I  daily 
associated.  While  in  this  place  I  suffered  many  hard.'^hips. 
When,  after  having  been  in  the  fields  all  day,  I  came  home  with 


32 


LIFE   OF  SAMUEL  DREW. 


cold  feet,  and  damp  and  dirty  stockings,  if  the  oven  had  been 
heated  during  the  day  I  was  permitted  to  throw  my  stockings 
into  it,  that  they  might  dry  against  the  following  morning  ;  but 
frequently  have  I  had  to  put  tliem  on  in  precisely  the  same 
state  in  which  I  had  left  them  the  preceding  evening.  To 
mend  my  stockings  I  had  no  one  ;  and  frequently  have  I  v/ept 
at  the  holes  which  I  could  not  conceal ;  though,  when  fortunate 
enough  to  procure  a  stocking-needle  and  some  worsted,  I  have 
drawn  the  outlines  of  the  hole  together,  and  made  what  I 
thought  a  tolerable  job. 

"  During  my  apprenticeship  many  bickerings  and  unplea- 
sant occurrences  took  place.  Some  of  these  preyed  with  so 
much  severity  on  my  mind,  that  several  limes  I  had  determined 
to  run  away,  and  either  enlist  on  board  of  a  privateer  or  a 
man-of-war.  A  kind  and  gracious  Providence,  however,  in- 
variably defeated  my  purpose,  and  threw  unexpected  obstacles 
in  the  way,  at  the  moment  when  my  schemes  were  apparently 
on  the  eve  of  accomplishment. 

"  In  some  part  of  my  servhude  a  few  numbers  of  the 
Weekly  Entertainer  were  brought  to  my  master's  house.  This 
little  publication,  which  was  then  extensively  circulated  in  the 
West  of  England,  contained  many  tales  and  anecdotes  which 
greatly  interested  me.  Into  the  narratives  of  adventures  con- 
nected with  the  then  American  war  I  entered  with  all  the  zeal 
of  a  partisan  on  the  side  of  the  Americans.  The  history  of 
Paul  Jones,  the  Serapis,  and  the  Bon  Homme  Richard,  by  fre- 
quent reading,  and  daily  dwelling  upon  them  in  the  almost  soli- 
tary chamber  of  my  thoughts,  grew  up  into  a  lively  image  in 
my  fancy  ;  and  I  felt  a  strong  desire  to  join  myself  to  a  pirate 
ship ;  but  as  I  had  no  money,  and  scarcely  any  clothes,  the 
idea  and  scheme  were  vain.  Besides  these  Entertainers,  the 
only  book  which  I  remember  to  have  seen  in  the  house  was  an 
odd  number  of  the  History  of  England,  about  the  time  of  th« 
Comtnonwcaltli.*  With  the  reading  of  this  I  was  at  first  much 
pleased  ;  but  when,  by  frequent  perusal,  I  had  nearly  learned  it 
by  heart,  it  became  monotonous,  and  was  shortly  afterward 
thrown  aside.  With  this  I  lost,  not  only  a.  disposition  for  read- 
ing, but  almost  an  ability  to  read.  The  clamour  of  my  com- 
panions and  others  engrossed  nearly  the  whole  of  my  atten- 
tion, and,  so  far  as  my  slender  means  would  allow,  carried  me 
onward  towards  the  vortex  of  dissipation. 

"  One  circumstance  I  must  not  omit  to  notice,  during  this 

*  There  was  a  Bib'e  in  the  liouse  ;  but  to  the  reailing  of  this,  because 
it  was  enjoined  upon  liiin  by  liis  master  on  SunJa^s,  he  seems  to  have 
contracted  a  dislike. 


HAZARDOUS  EXPLOIT. 


33 


period  of  my  life,  as  it  strikingly  marks  the  superintending 
providence  of  God.  I  was  sent  one  day  to  a  neighbouring 
common,  bordering  on  the  sea-shore,  to  see  that  my  master's 
sheep  were  safe  and  together.  Having  discharged  this  duty,  I 
looked  towards  the  sea,  which  I  presume  could  not  be  less  than 
two  hundred  feet  below  me.  I  saw  the  sea-birds  busily  em- 
ployed, providing  for  their  young,  flying  about  midway  between 
the  sea  and  the  elevation  on  which  I  stood,  when  I  was  seized 
with  a-  strange  resolution  to  descend  the  cliff,  and  make  my 
way  to  the  place  where  they  had  built  their  nests.  It  was  a 
desperate  and  dangerous  attempt;  but  I  determined  to  perse- 
vere. My  danger  increased  at  every  step  ;  and  at  length  I 
found  that  a  projecting  rock  prohibited  my  fartlier  progress.  I 
then  attempted  to  retreat;  but  found  the  task  more  ditli-ultand 
hazardous  than  that  I  had  already  encountered.  I  was  now 
perched  on  a  narrow  ledge  of  rock,  about  a  hundred  feet  below 
the  edge  of  the  cliff,  and  nearly  the  same  height  above  the 
ocean.  To  turn  myself  round  I  found  to  be  impossible  :  there 
was  no  hand  to  help,  no  eye  to  pity,  no  voice  to  sooth.  My 
spirits  began  to  fail.  I  saw  nothing  before  me  but  inevitable 
destruction,  and  dreaded  the  moment  when  I  should  be  dashed 
in  pieces  upon  the  rocks  below.  At  length,  by  creeping  back- 
ward about  one-eighth  of  an  inch  at  a  step,  1  reached  a  nook 
where  I  was  able  to  turn,  and  happily  succeeded  in  escaping 
the  destruction  which  I  had  dreaded." 

The  hazards  into  wiiich  his  adventurous  disposition  often 
led  him  are  well  remembered  by  one  of  the  surviving  com- 
panions of  his  boyish  days.  "  Though,"  says  he,  "  I  was 
younger  than  long-legged  Sam,  as  we  used  to  call  him,  I  fre- 
quently went  out  with  him  ;  and  the  horror  I  have  felt  at  the 
dangerous  places  in  which  he  and  some  of  the  big  boys  used 
to  go  has  been  often  so  great  as  to  keep  me  from  sleeping  at 
night.  In  all  such  exploits  he  was  the  leader.  He  seemed  to 
fear  nothing,  and  care  for  nobody  ;  but  he  was  a  good-tempered 
boy,  and  a  favourite  with  us  all." 

The  slirewdness  and  cunning  which  were  shown  in  his  early 
childiiood  were  called  into  exercise  during  his  apprenticeship. 
His  recollections  of  harsh  treatment,  and  his  being  compelled 
to  menial  offices,  have  less  reference  to  his  master  than  his 
mistress.  She  was  disposed  to  make  him  a  "  hewer  of  wood 
and  drawer  of  water  ;"  and  as  he  knew  remonstrance  would 
be  unavailing,  he  hit  upon  a  practical  argument.  It  was  re- 
marked, after  some  time,  that  whenever  Samuel  was  sent  for 
water  against  his  inclination,  some  accident  was  sure  to  befall 
the  pitcher.     There  was,  at  all  times,  a  plausible  reason  as- 


34 


LIFE   OF  SAMUEL  DKEW. 


signed,  so  as  to  avert  punishment ;  but  the  true  cause  began  to 
be  suspected  ;  and  his  mistress  at  length  judged  it  expedient  to 
issue  a  standing  order,  that  he  should  never  be  sent  for  water 
unless  he  evinced  a  perfect  willingness  to  go. 

In  the  state  of  moral  debasement  in  which  he  describes  him- 
self to  have  been  during  his  apprenticeship,  it  is  not  surprising 
that  he  contracted  many  of  the  pernicious  habits  of  those  with 
whom  he  mingled,  or  that  some  of  the  neighbouring  gardens 
and  orchards  were  reported  to  have  suffered  from  the  looseness 
of  his  morals.  Though  he  generally  managed  to  evade  de- 
tection and  punishment,  there  is  reason  to  believe,  that,  in 
various  instances,  he  was  more  indebted  to  adroitness  than  to 
innocence.  Having  ventured  one  day,  with  no  honest  inten- 
tion, into  tlie  Tregrehan  grounds,  he  was  detected,  by  the  pro- 
prietor, in  ihe  act  of  trespass.  By  a  display  of  craftiness 
and  agility,  he  escaped  instant  punishment ;  but  the  gentleman 
immediately  apprized  the  master,  that,  as  the  boy's  depreda- 
tions had  become  notorious,  unless  measures  were  taken  to 
restrain  or  remove  him,  lie,  as  a  magistrate,  should  consider  it 
a  duty  to  the  public  to  commit  him  to  the  county  jail ; — a  threat 
which  was  not  executed,  since  Samuel  very  shortly  removed 
himself. 

Smuggling,  at  the  time  of  Mr.  Drew's  apprenticeship,  was 
more  common  in  Cornwall  than  it  is  in  the  present  da)'.  Very 
few  esteemed  it  a  breach  of  moral  duty ;  and  to  engage  in  it 
was  not  considered  dishonourable.  The  ingenuity  frequently 
displayed,  in  baflling  pursuit,  and  evading  detection,  gained  the 
applause  of  the  public,  who  regarded  the  officers  of  the  rev- 
enue as  enemies  of  the  common  good.  This  was  an  occupa- 
tion quite  congenial  with  Samuel's  adventurous  spirit,  and  it 
pleased  his  excited  fancy  after  reading  "  Paul  Jones."  He 
had  formed  an  acquaintance  with  some  persons  who  were  in 
the  habit  of  assisting  smugglers ;  and,  without  his  master's 
knowledge  or  consent,  was  frequently  absent  on  their  noc- 
turnal expeilition.3.  It  was  while  engaged  in  a  smuggling  or 
poaching  affair,  not  far  from  his  master's  house,  that  an  inci- 
dent occurred,  which  he  frequently  related,  as  having  made  a 
very  deep  impression  on  his  memory. 

"  There  were  several  of  us,  boys  and  men,  out  about  twelve 
o'clock,  on  a  bright  moonlight  night.  What  we  were  engaged 
about  I  do  not  (  xacily  remember.  I  think  we  were  poaching  ; 
but  it  was  something  that  would  not  bear  investigation.  The 
party  were  in  a  fiehl,  adjoining  the  road  leading  from  my 
master's  to  St.  Austell,  and  I  was  stationed  outside  the  hedge, 


SINGULAR  ADVENTURE. 


35 


to  watch,  and  give  the  alarm  if  any  inlruder  should  appear. 
Wliile  thus  occupied,  I  heard  what  appeared  to  be  the  sound 
of  a  horse,  approaching  from  the  town,  and  1  gave  a  signal. 
My  comi)anions  paused,  and  came  to  the  hedge  where  I  was, 
to  see  the  passenger.  They  looked  through  the  bushes,  and  I 
drew  myself  close  to  the  hedge,  that  I  miglit  not  be  observed. 
The  sound  increased,  and  the  supposed  horseinari  seemed 
drawing  near.  The  clatter  of  the  hoofs  became  more  and 
more  distinct.  We  all  looked  to  see  who  and  what  it  was ; 
and  I  was  seized  with  a  strange,  indefinable  feeling  of  dread, 
when,  instead  of  a  horse,  there  appeared  coming  towards  us, 
at  an  easy  pace,  but  with  tlie  same  sound  which  first  caught 
my  ear,  a  creature  about  tlie  lu  ight  of  a  large  dog.  It  went 
close  by  me  ;  and,  as  it  passed,  it  turrifd  i,j)oii  me  and  my 
companions  huge  fiery  eyes,  that  struck  terror  to  all  our  hearts. 
The  road  where  I  stood  branched  ofl'  in  two  diretnions,  in  one 
of  which  there  was  a  gate  across.  Towards  this  gate  it 
moved  ;  and,  without  any  apparent  obstruction,  went  on  at  its 
regular  trot,  which  we  heard  several  mimiles  after  it  had  dis- 
appeared. Whatever  it  was,  it  put  an  end  to  our  occupation, 
and  we  made  the  best  of  our  way  home. 

"  I  have  often  endeavoun  d,  in  later  years,  but  without  suc- 
cess, to  account,  on  natural  principles,  for  wliat  I  then  heard 
and  saw.  As  to  the  fact,  I  am  sure  there  was  no  deception. 
It  was  a  night  of  unusual  brightness,  occasioned  by  a  cloud- 
less full  moon.  How  many  of  us  were  together  I  do  not  know, 
nor  do  I  distinctly,  at  this  time,  recollect  who  the  men  were. 
Matthew  Pascoe,  one  of  my  intimate  boyish  acquaintances,  was 
of  tlie  party ;  but  he  is  dead,  and  so  probably  are  the  others. 
The  creature  was  unlike  any  animal  I  had  then  seen  ;  but, 
from  my  present  recollections,  it  had  inuch  ihe  appearance  of 
a  bear,  with  a  dark  .shaggy  coat.  Had  it  not  been  for  the  un- 
earthly lustre  of  its  eyes,  and  its  passing  tlirough  the  gate  as 
it  did,  there  would  be  no  reason  to  supjiose  it  any  thing  more 
than  an  animal  perhaps  escaped  from  some  menagerie.  Tliat 
it  did  pass  through  the  gate,  without  pause  or  hesitation,  I  am 
perfectly  clear.  Indeed,  we  all  saw  it,  and  saw  tiiat  the  gate 
was  shut,  from  which  we  were  not  distant  more  tlian  twenty 
or  thirty  yards.  The  bars  were  too  close  to  admit  the  passage 
of  an  animal  of  half  its  apparent  bulk;  yet  this  creature  went 
through  without  effort  or  variation  of  its  pace.  Whenever  I 
have  read  the  passage  about  the  'lubber  fiend,'  in  Milton's 
V Allegro,  or  heard  the  description  given  of  the  '  brownie,' 
in  the  legends  of  other  days,  I  have  always  identified  these 


36 


LIFE  OF  SAMUIX  DRKW. 


beings,  real  or  imaginary,  with  what  I  on  this  occasion  wit- 
nessed. 

"  How  such  a  being,  if  immaterial,  could  become  an  object 
of  sight,  or  how  it  could  affect  my  organs  of  hearing,  I  do  not 
know ;  and  it  is  folly  to  attempt  to  account  for  a  svper- 
natural  occurrence  on  the  principles  of  natural  science ; 
for  could  we  succeed,  it  would  be  no  longer  supernatural.  If 
it  be  inquired,  for  what  purpose  such  a  creature  was  sent,  or 
permiited  to  appear  to  us,  I  cannot  undertake  to  answer.  With 
reference  to  myself,  I  might  observe,  that  I  was  at  this  time 
forming  acquaintances  and  contracting  habits  of  the  most  per- 
nicious kind,  such  as,  if  persevered  in,  might  have  brought  me 
to  an  uniinitly  and  a  disgraceful  end.  This  night's  adventure, 
though  it  produced  no  radical  change  in  my  conduct,  was  not 
forgotten.  It  prevented  me,  wliile  I  continued  with  my  master, 
from  engaging  in  any  further  expeditions  of  the  kind  ;  and  it 
was  a  means  of  withdrawing  me  from  the  company  of  those 
who  were  leading  me  to  ruin.  In  many  circumstances  of  my 
past  life,  I  can  distinguish  the  kind  hand  of  God  stretched  out 
to  save  me,  as  'a  brand  plucked  from  the  burning;'  and  this 
appears  to  be  one.  Whether  the  same  end  might  have  been 
effected  by  ordinary  agency,  is  not  for  me  to  say.  Probably 
it  might.  But  then  other  objects  of  greater  importance  in  the 
moral  government  of  God  might  have  remained  unaccomplished; 

"  '  For  man,  who  here  seems  principal  alone. 

Perhaps  nets  seconil  to  some  sphere  unknown, — 
Touches  some  wheel,  or  verges  to  some  goal : 
'Tis  but  a  [cirt  we  sec,  and  not  the  whole.'  " 

The  preceding  relation,  marked  as  being  Mr.  Drew's  words, 
was  made  by  him  to  the  writer,  a  few  years  since,  on  the  very 
spot  where  the  circumstance  occurred.  The  narrative,  and  the 
observations  upon  it,  are  given,  as  far  as  memory  can  be  de- 
j)en(lcd  on,  witiiout  \  ari;ition  of  language;  and,  to  ensure  accu- 
racy, iliey  iiave  been  collated  with  the  recollections  of  several 
individuals  who  have;  heard  Mr.  Drew's  statement.  His  own 
remarks  siqierscdc  any  which  we  might  be  templed  to  offer 
upon  this  singular  occurrence.  We  live  in  an  era  of  the  world's 
history  in  wliich  the  arcana  of  nature  are  daily  laid  open  ;  and 
yet 

"There  are  more  things  in  heaven  and  earth 
Than  are  dreamt  of  in  our  philosophy." 

Although  it  is  sufficiently  apparent  that  Mr.  D.'s  conduct 


ABSCONDS  FROM  HIS  MASTER. 


37 


was  any  thing  but  blameless,  during  his  apprenticeship,  yet  he 
was,  to  quote  his  own  expression,  "  like  a  toad  under  a  harrow  ;" 
and,  amid  the  utter  absence  of  that  reciprocity  of  kindness  and 
good-will  so  necessary  to  improvement,  it  is  not  surprising  that 
he  made  little  proficiency  in  his  business  He  felt  conscious, 
at  tiie  outset,  that  his  master  and  mistress  wished  to  degrade 
him  by  the  most  menial  offices:  his  shoulders  spurned  the 
yoke;  and  the  indignities  oflered  him  furnished  a  constant 
source  of  dissatisfaction. 

One  of  his  youthful  companions,  who  still  survives  him, 
says,  "  I  believe  Sam  was  a  difficult  boy  to  manage  ;  but  he 
was  made  worse  by  the  treatment  he  received.  I  was  once  in 
the  shop,  when,  for  a  very  small  olTence,  his  master  struck  him 
very  violently  with  a  last,  and  maimed  him  for  a  time.  Such 
usage  only  made  him  stunij%  and  caused  him  to  dislike  his 
master  and  his  work."  The  result  was,  that,  when  about 
seventeen,  he  absconded.  The  circumstances  are  thus  related 
by  his  sister. 

"  At  the  time  my  brother  Samuel  was  an  apprentice,  my 
father  was  chiefly  employed  in  what  was  called  riding  Sher- 
borne. There  was  scarcely  a  bookseller  at  that  time  in  Corn- 
wall ;  and  the  only  newspaper  known  among  the  commoa 
people  was  the  Sherborne  Mercury,  published  weekly  by 
Goadby  &  Co.,  the  same  persons  that  issued  the  Weekly  En- 
tertainer. The  papers  were  not  sent  by  post,  but  by  private 
messengers,  who  were  termed  Sherborne  men.  My  father  was 
one  of  these.  Between  Plymouth  and  Penzance  there  were 
two  stages  on  the  main  road,  each  about  forty  miles  ;  and  there 
were  branch  riders,  in  diflerent  directions,  who  held  a  regular 
communication  with  each  other,  and  with  the  establishment  in 
Sherborne.  Their  business  was  to  deliver  liie  newspapers, 
Entertainers,  and  any  books  that  had  been  ordered ;  to  collect 
the  money,  and  take  fresh  orders.  Almost  the  whole  county  of 
Cornwall  was  supplied  with  books  and  papers  in  this  way. 
My  father's  stage  was  from  St.  Austell  to  Plymouth.  He 
always  set  off  on  his  journey  early  on  Monday  morning,  and 
returned  on  Wednesday. 

"  One  Monday  night,  in  the  hay  season,  after  my  step-mother 
and  I  were  in  bed,  my  father  being  absent  on  his  journey, 
we  were  awakened  by  my  brother  Samuel,  who  had  then  come 
from  his  master's,  in  St.  Blazey.  He  said  to  our  step-mother, 
'  I  am  going  away,  and  want  some  money.  Will  you  give  me 
some?'  She  inquired  what  he  meant  by  'going  away,'  and 
whether  he  had  then  any  money  about  him.    His  reply  was, 


38 


LIFE  OF  SAMUEL  DREW. 


'I  am  going  to  run  away.  I  have  now  sixteen  pence  halA 
penny  ;  and  if  you  will  not  give  me  more,  I  will  go  with  that, 
and  never  return  to  my  master's  house.'  She  felt  herself  in  a 
dilemma.  To  refuse  appeared  cruel ;  and  to  comply  with  hia 
request  would  be  assisting  him  to  do  wrong.  She  therefore 
told  him  that  he  must  go  to  bed,  and  wait  his  father's  return. 
But  his  resolution  was  fixed  ;  for  though  we  concluded  he  would 
not  execute  his  intcniions  without  further  supplies,  when  morn- 
ing came  he  was  gone.  Knowing  his  resolute  temper,  and 
that  he  had  more  than  once  threatened  to  enter  on  board  a  man- 
of-war,  we  were  greatly  alarmed,  esj)eeially  as  my  father  was 
absent,  lest  he  should  take  some  decisive  step  before  any  thing 
could  be  done  to  prevent  it.  We  sent  messengers  about  the 
neighbourhood,  but  could  get  no  intelligence  of  him,  until  my 
father  returned.  My  brother's  adventures,  after  leaving  our 
house,  I  have  heard  liim  thus  describe. 

"  When  I  came  to  Polpea,  to  ask  for  money,  I  had  not  fully 
determined  whither  to  go.  I  thought  of  travelling  to  Plymouth, 
to  seek  a  berth  on  board  a  king's  ship.  Instead,  however,  of 
taking  the  sliort  road,  where  I  feared  my  father  might  fail  in 
with  me,  I  went  on  towards  Liskeard,  through  the  night,  and 
feeling  fatigued,  went  into  a  hay-field  and  slept.  My  luggage 
was  no  encumbrance  ;  as  the  whole  of  my  property,  besides  the 
clothes  I  wore,  was  contained  in  a  small  handkerchief  Not 
knowing  how  long  I  should  have  to  depend  upon  my  slender 
stock  of  cash,  I  found  it  necessary  to  use  the  most  rigid 
economy.  Having  to  pass  over  eittier  a  ferry  or  toll-bridge, 
for  which  I  had  to  pay  a  halfpenny,  feeling  my  present  situation, 
and  knowing  nothing  of  my  future  prospects, this  small  call  upon 
my  funds  distressed  me.  I  wept  as  I  went  on  my  way ;  and,  even 
to  the  present  time,  I  feel  a  pang  when  I  recollect  the  circum- 
stance. The  exertion  of  walking,  and  the  fresh  morning  air,  gare 
me  a  keener  appetite  than  I  tliouglit  it  prudent  to  indulge.  I, 
however,  bought  a  penny  loaf  at  the  first  place  I  passed  where 
bread  was  sold,  and,  with  a  halfpenny  worth  of  milk,  in  a 
farmer's  house,  ate  half  of  my  loaf  for  breakfast.  In  passing 
through  Liskeard,  my  attention  was  attracted  by  a  shoemaker's 
shop,  in  the  door  of  which  a  respectable  looking  man,  whom  I 
supposed  to  be  the  master,  was  standing.  Witiiout  any  in- 
tention of  seeking  employment  in  this  place,  I  asked  him  if  he 
could  give  me  work  ;  and  he,  taking  compassion,  I  suppose,  on 
my  sorry  appearance,  promised  to  employ  me  next  morning. 
Before  I  could  go  to  work,  tools  were  necessary ;  and  I  was 
obliged  to  lay  out  a  shilling  on  these.    Dinner,  under  such  cir- 


Hardships  scstained. 


39 


cumstances,  was  out  of  the  question :  for  supper  I  bought 
another  halfpenny  worth  of  milk,  ate  the  remainder  of  my  loaf, 
and,  for  a  lodging,  again  had  recourse  to  the  fields.  The  next 
morning  I  purchased  another  penny  loaf,  and  resumed  my 
labour.  My  employer  soon  found  that  I  was  a  miserable  tool ; 
yet  lie  treated  me  kindly  ;  and  his  son  took  me  beside  him  in 
the  shop,  and  gave  me  instruetion.  I  had  now  but  one  penny 
left ;  and  this  I  wisiied  to  husband  till  my  labour  brought  a 
supply :  so  for  dinner  I  tied  my  apron-string  tighter,  and  went 
on  with  my  work.  My  abstinence  subjected  me  to  the  jeers  of 
my  shopmates ;  thus  rendering  the  pangs  of  hunger  doubly 
bitter.  One  of  them,  I  remember,  said  to  another,  '  Where 
does  our  shopmate  dine?'  and  the  response  was,  'Oh!  he 
always  dities  at  the  sign  of  the  mouth.'  Half  of  the  penny 
loaf  which  I  took  with  me  in  the  morning  I  had  allotted  for 
my  supper ;  but  before  tiight  came,  I  had  pinched  it  nearly  all 
away  in  mouihfuls,  through  mere  hunger.  Very  reluctantly  I 
laid  out  my  last  penny,  and,  with  no  enviable  feelings,  sought 
my  former  lodging  in  the  open  air.  With  no  other  breakfast 
than  the  fragments  of  my  last  loaf,  1  again  sat  down  to  work. 
At  dinner  time,  looking,  no  doubt,  very  much  famished,  my 
master  kindly  said,  '  If  you  wish,  I  will  let  yon  have  a  little 
money,  on  account,' — an  offer  which  I  very  joyfully  accepted. 
This  was,  however,  my  last  day's  employment  here.  Dis- 
covering that  I  was  a  runaway  apprentice,  my  new  master  dis- 
missed me,  with  a  recommendation  to  return  to  the  old  one  ; 
and  while  he  was  talking  my  brother  came  to  the  door,  with  a 
horse,  to  take  me  home." 

Samuel's  place  of  abode  was  ascertained  by  his  friends 
through  what  would  ordinarily  be  termed  mere  accident.  As 
his  father  passed  a  toll-gate,  on  his  return  from  Plymouth,  the 
name  "  Drew,"  uttered  by  a  person  in  conversation  with  the 
gate-keeper,  caught  his  ear.  He  knew  nothing  then  of  his 
son's  absence  ;  but  few  persons  in  the  neighbourhood  being  so 
called,  he  was  led  to  make  some  inquiry  of  the  speaker,  who 
informed  him  that  a  young  shoemaker  named  Drew  was  then 
working  in  Liskeard.  When,  on  arriving  home,  he  learned 
that  Samuel  was  gone,  he  immediately  identified  him  with  the 
"  young  shoemaker,"  and  despatched  his  eldest  son  Jabez  in 
pursuit. 

Upon  receiving  a  positive  assurance  that  he  was  not  to  go 
back  to  his  former  master,  Samuel  rettirned  with  his  brotiier  to 
his  i'"ather's  house  at  Polpea.  Compensation  being  made  his 
master,  his  indenture  was  cancelled,  and  he  remained  at  Polpea 


40 


LIFE  OF  SAMUEL  DREW. 


about  four  months,  either  working  at  his  business  or  assisting 
his  father  and  brother  on  the  farm. 

Tlie  guiding  and  overruHng  hand  of  Providence  in  the  events 
of  his  early  life  Mr.  Drew,  in  after-years,  was  accustomed  to 
trace  with  feehngs  of  grateful  adoration.  To  his  children,  and 
those  with  whom  he  was  in  the  habit  of  familiar  intercourse,  he 
would  point  out,  as  connected  with  the  period  we  have  been 
describing,  and  in  his  more  mature  years,  occasions  which  future 
destiny  quivered  in  the  beam,  and  apparently  trivial  circum- 
stances were  the  means  of  rescuing  him  from  destruction,  and 
opening  before  him  a  more  honourable  career.  He  would  thus 
lead  them  to  reflect  on  the  moral  government  of  God,  and  His 
watchful  guardianship,  as  extending  even  to  the  "  unjust"  and 
"unthankful;"  showing  them,  that  however  we  may  be  per- 
mitted to  follow  the  "  devices  and  desires  of  our  hearts,"  He  does 
not  cease,  though  by  methods  unperceived,  to  direct,  to  in- 
fluence, or  to  restrain  ;  and  that 

"  There  is  a  Providence  that  shapes  our  ends, 
Rough-hew  them  as  we  will." 

May  not  this  Divine  direction  be  traced  in  the  circumstances 
which  mark  his  flight  to  Liskeard  ?  If,  instead  of  pausing  there, 
he  had  followed  up  his  intention  of  going  to  Plymouth,  the  state 
of  his  finances  would,  in  all  probability,  have  led  him  to  enter 
the  king's  service  before  his  friends  could  have  interfered.  It 
was  then  a  lime  of  war ;  and  had  he  taken  his  intended  step, 
it  is  not  likely  that  he  would  have  become  a  subject  for 
the  biographer.  The  hardships  he  endured  taught  him  an  im- 
portant lesson.  He  found  that  the  romance  of  life  which  his 
imagination  had  depicted  was  sorrowfully  contrasted  by  its 
reality ;  that  the  evils  over  which  he  had  brooded,  while  an  ap- 
prentice, were  inferior  to  those  to  which  he  had  voluntarily 
exposed  himself ;  and  that  the  freedom  for  which  he  had 
sighed  was  more  burdensome  than  his  chains. 

Under  the  protection  of  his  father's  roof  the  subject  of  this 
memoir  may,  for  a  season,  remain,  while  the  rea:der's  attention 
is  directed  to  his  immediate  relatives. 


HIS  brother's  character. 


41 


SECTION  V. 

His  brother's  character — Family  anecdotes — His  sister's  strong  affection 
for  him — Her  remarkable  deliverance  from  danger. 

PoLPEA,  the  residence  of  Samuel's  father,  was  at  this  time  a 
spot  of  remarkable  beauty.  Its  acres,  though  few,  were  fertile  ; 
and  tlie  humble  dwelling  was  half-hidden  by  a  productive 
orchard.  Situated  in  a  sheltered  recess,  at  the  north-eastern 
extremity  of  a  spacious  bay,  to  which  the  parish  of  St.  Austell 
(whose  shores  it  chiefly  washes)  has  given  a  name  ;  com- 
manding a  view  of  the  little  fishing  village  of  Parr,  since  fallen 
into  decay,  but  again  rising  into  importance  as  a  harbour  ;  few 
spots  in  Cornwall  exceeded  it  for  picturesque  scenery  and 
quiet  loveliness.  By  unremitting  industry  and  tlie  good  manage- 
ment of  his  wife,  the  father  had  freed  himself  from  the  difficul- 
ties with  which,  in  early  life,  he  had  to  struggle  ;  and,  though 
not  exempt  from  the  necessity  of  daily  labour,  he  was  now 
placed,  by  a  kind  Providence,  above  the  pressure  of  want.  In 
the  concerns  of  his  farm  he  was  assisted  by  his  elder  son 
Jabez,  whose  disposition  presented  a  remarkable  contrast  to 
that  of  his  brother.  While  Samuel,  by  his  daring  and  adven- 
turous spirit,  was  often  running  into  danger,  and  causing  his 
parent  much  anxiety,  Jabez  exhibited  so  much  fondness  for 
reading  and  study,  that  his  father  sometimes  found  it  necessary 
to  chide  him  for  indulging  in  these  employments,  to  the  neglect 
of  his  ordinary  occupations.  Every  leisure  hour,  and  fre- 
quently hours  which  should  have  been  allotted  to  repose,  he 
devoted  to  such  literary  pursuits  as  his  circumstances  enabled 
him  to  follow.  The  Weekly  Entertainer,  which  has  already 
been  mentioned  as  a  means  of  stimulating  persons  in  humble 
life  to  mental  exercise,  consisted  partly  of  questions  proposed, 
and  replies  given,  on  various  subjects,  by  correspondents. 
Enigmas,  mathematical  queries,  and  metrical  compositions 
also  found  place  in  the  publication  ;  and  in  each  of  these  de- 
partments Jabez  Drew  was  a  regular  and  an  acceptable  con- 
tributor. He  also  wrote  many  poetical  pieces,  which  never 
appeared  in  print.  His  sister  says,  "  I  remember  having  seen 
DSJ 


40 


LIFE  OF  SAMUEL  DREW. 


about  four  months,  either  working  at  his  business  or  assisting 
his  father  and  brother  on  the  farm. 

The  guiding  and  overruling  hand  of  Providence  in  the  events 
of  his  early  life  Mr.  Drew,  in  after-years,  was  accustomed  to 
trace  with  feelings  of  grateful  adoration.  To  his  children,  and 
those  with  whom  he  was  in  the  habit  of  familiar  intercourse,  he 
would  point  out,  as  connected  with  the  period  we  have  been 
describing,  and  in  his  more  mature  years,  occasions  which  future 
destiny  quivered  in  the  beam,  and  apparently  trivial  circum- 
stances were  the  means  of  rescuing  him  from  destruction,  and 
opening  Ijcfore  him  a  more  honourable  career.  He  would  thus 
lead  them  to  rellect  on  the  moral  government  of  God,  and  His 
watcliful  guardianship,  as  extending  even  to  the  "  unjust"  and 
"unthankful;"  showing  them,  that  however  we  may  be  per- 
mitted to  follow  the  "  devices  and  desires  of  omt  hearts,"  He  does 
not  cease,  though  by  methods  unperceived,  to  direct,  to  in- 
fluence, or  to  restrain  ;  and  that 

"  There  is  a  Providence  that  shapes  our  ends, 
Rough-hew  them  as  we  will." 

May  not  this  Divine  direction  be  traced  in  the  circumstances 
which  mark  his  flight  to  Liskeard  ?  If,  instead  of  pausing  there, 
he  had  followed  up  his  intention  of  going  to  Plymouth,  the  state 
of  his  finances  would,  in  all  probability,  have  led  him  to  enter 
the  king's  service  before  his  friends  could  have  interfered.  It 
was  then  a  time  of  war ;  and  had  he  taken  his  intended  step, 
it  is  not  likely  that  he  would  have  become  a  subject  for 
the  biographer.  The  hardships  he  endured  taught  him  an  im- 
portant lesson.  He  found  that  the  romance  of  life  which  his 
imagination  had  depicted  was  sorrowfully  contrasted  by  its 
reality;  that  the  evils  over  which  he  had  brooded,  while  an  ap- 
prentice, were  inferior  to  those  to  which  he  had  voluntarily 
exposed  himself;  and  that  the  freedom  for  which  he  had 
sighed  was  inore  burdensome  than  his  chains. 

Under  the  protection  of  his  father's  roof  the  subject  of  this 
memoir  may,  for  a  season,  remain,  while  the  reader's  attention 
is  directed  to  his  immediate  relatives. 


HIS  brother's  character. 


41 


SECTION  V. 

His  brother's  character — Family  anecdotes — His  sister's  strong  affection 
for  him — Her  remarkable  deliverance  from  danger. 

PoLPEA,  the  residence  of  Samuel's  father,  was  at  this  time  a 
spot  of  remarkable  beauty.  Its  acres,  though  few,  were  fertile  ; 
and  the  humble  dwelling  was  half-hidden  by  a  productive 
orchard.  Situated  in  a  sheltered  recess,  at  the  north-eastern 
extremity  of  a  spacious  bay,  to  which  the  parish  of  St.  Austell 
(whose  shores  it  chiefly  washes)  has  given  a  name  ;  com- 
manding a  view  of  the  little  fi.shing  village  of  Parr,  since  fallen 
into  decay,  but  again  rising  into  importance  as  a  harbour ;  few 
spots  in  Cornwall  exceeded  it  for  picturesque  scenery  and 
quiet  loveliness.  By  iniremitiing  industry  and  the  good  manage- 
ment of  his  wife,  the  father  had  freed  himself  from  the  difficul- 
ties with  which,  in  early  life,  he  had  to  st-ruggle  ;  and,  though 
not  exempt  from  the  necessity  of  daily  labour,  he  was  now 
placed,  by  a  kind  Providence,  above  the  pressure  of  want.  In 
the  concerns  of  his  farm  he  was  assisted  by  his  elder  son 
Jabez,  who.se  disposition  presented  a  remarkable  contrast  to 
that  of  his  brother.  While  Samuel,  by  his  daring  and  adven- 
turous spirit,  was  often  running  into  danger,  and  causing  his 
parent  much  anxiety,  Jabez  exhibited  so  much  fondness  for 
reading  and  study,  that  his  father  sometimes  found  it  necessary 
to  chide  him  for  indulging  in  these  employments,  to  the  neglect 
of  his  ordinary  occupations.  Every  leisure  hour,  and  fre- 
quently hours  which  should  have  been  allotted  to  repose,  he 
devoted  to  such  literary  pursuits  as  his  circumstances  enabled 
him  to  follow.  The  Weekly  Entertainer,  which  has  already 
been  mentioned  as  a  means  of  stimulating  persons  in  humble 
life  to  mental  exercise,  consisted  partly  of  questions  proposed, 
and  replies  given,  on  various  subjects,  by  correspondents. 
Enigmas,  mathematical  queries,  and  metrical  compositions 
also  found  place  in  the  publication  ;  and  in  each  of  these  de- 
partments Jabez  Drew  was  a  regular  and  an  acceptable  con- 
tributor. He  also  wrote  many  poetical  pieces,  which  never 
appeared  in  print.  His  sister  says,  "  I  remember  having  seen 
D  3 


42 


LIFE  OF  SAMUEL  DREW. 


in  my  eldest  brother's  room  a  great  many  books,  of  which  I 
then  knew  not  the  use ;  and  lie  was  a  frequent  and  welcome 
visiter  at  the  house  of  a  gentleman  who  kept  a  boarding-school 
not  far  from  us ;  where  he  often  remained  till  past  midnight, 
induli^ing  his  iliirst  for  knowledge."  By  many  of  the  respect- 
able iiihabiuuits  of  thai  neiglibourliood  he  was  known,  and 
liiglily  esteemed,  as  a  young  man  of  attainments  beyond  his 
station.  In  a  subsequent  page,  it  will  be  seen  that  his  death 
was  a  prime  cause  of  his  brother  Samuel's  conversion. 

It  has  been  already  stated  that  the  father's  time  was  partly 
occupied  in  conveying  the  Sherborne  newspapers,  and  other 
publications  sent  into  Cornwall  by  that  establishment.  He 
was  also  a  contractor  for  carrying  the  mail  between  St.  Austell 
and  Bodmin.  In  this  the  eldest  son  was  commonly  employed, 
and  Samuel,  during  his  temporary  residence  with  his  father, 
occasionally  rendered  his  assistance.  Once,  while  he  was  an 
apprentice,  his  brother  being  ill,  he  was  called  on  to  perform  the 
duty.  His  adventure,  on  that  occasion,  he  thus  related  to  a 
friend. 

"  At  one  time,  in  the  depth  of  winter,  I  was  borrowed  to 
supply  my  brother's  place  in  carrying  the  mail ;  and  I  had  to 
travel  in  the  darkness  of  night,  through  frost  and  snow,  a  dreary 
journey,  out  and  home,  of  more  than  twenty  miles.  Being 
overj)Ovvered  with  fatigue,  I  fell  asleep  on  tlie  horse's  neck, 
and  when  I  awoke,  discovered  that  I  had  lost  my  hat.  The 
wind  was  keen  and  piercing,  and  I  was  bitterly  cold.  I  stopped 
the  horse,  and  endeavoured  to  find  out  where  I  was  :  but  it  was 
so  dark  tliat  I  could  scarcely  distinguish  the  hedges  on  each 
side  of  the  road  ;  and  1  had  no  means  of  ascertaining  how  long 
I  had  been  asleep,  or  how  far  I  had  travelled.  I  then  dis- 
mounted, and  looked  around  for  my  hat ;  but  seeing  nothing  of 
it,  1  turned  back,  leading  the  horse,  determined  to  find  it,  if 
possible ;  for  the  loss  of  a  hat  was  to  me  a  matter  of  serious 
consequence  ;  and  my  anxiety  was  increased  by  the  considera- 
tion, that  if  it  were  not  recovered,  I  should  probably  have  to 
wait  a  long  while  for  another.  Shivering  with  cold,  I  pursued 
my  solitary  way,  scrutinizing  the  road  at  every  step,  until  I 
had  walked  about  two  miles,  and  was  on  the  point  of  giving  up 
the  search,  when  I  came  to  a  receiving  house,  where  1  ought 
to  have  delivered  a  packet  of  letters,  but  had  passed  it  when 
asleep.  To  this  place  the  post  usually  came  about  one  o'clock 
in  the  morning,  and  it  was  customary  to  leave  a  window  un- 
fastened, except  by  a  large  stone  outside,  that  the  family  might 
sot  be  disturbed  at  so  unseasonable  an  hour.    I  immediately 


FAMILY  ANECDOTES. 


43 


put  my  letter-bag  through  the  window,  and  having  replaced  the 
stone,  was  turning  round  to  my  horse,  when  I  perceived  my 
hat  lying  close  to  my  feet.  I  suppose  that  the  horse,  knowing 
the  place,  must  have  stopped  at  the  window  for  me  to  deliver 
my  charge ;  but  having  waited  until  his  patience  was  ex- 
hausted, had  pursued  his  way  to  the  next  place.  My  hat  must 
have  been  shaken  off  by  his  impatient  movements,  or  en- 
deavours to  awaken  me  ;  but  how  long  he  waited  I  cannot  tell. 
Though  blind,  that  horse  had  more  sense,  and  needed  less 
guidance,  tiian  any  one  I  ever  rode." 

By  all  the  family  this  sagacious  and  valuable  animal  was 
much  prized ;  but  Samuel's  father  felt  for  it  an  especial  re- 
gard, and  the  attachment  between  tlie  master  and  his  faithful 
servant  was  to  all  appearance  mutual.  Many  years  before, 
the  poor  beast,  in  a  wretched  condition,  from  starvation  and  ill 
usage,  was  turned  out  on  a  common  to  die.  The  owner  wil- 
lingly sold  it  for  little  more  than  the  value  of  the  skin ;  and  his 
new  possessor,  having,  by  care  and  kindness,  restored  it  to 
strength,  soon  found  tliat  he  had  made  a  most  advantageous 
bargain.  For  more  than  twenty  years,  he  and  his  blind  com- 
panion travelled  the  road  together ;  and  many  were  the  proofs 
of  its  intelligence  and  attachment.  After  the  horse  was  past 
labour,  it  was  kept  in  the  orchard,  and  attended  with  almost 
parental  care.  Latterly  it  had  become  unable  to  bite  the  grass  ; 
and  the  old  man  regularly  fed  it  with  bread  soaked  in  milk.  "  I 
remember,"  says  the  present  survivor  of  the  family,  "  that 
when  the  sagacious  creature  would,  early  in  the  morning,  put 
his  head  over  the  orchard  railing,  towards  his  master's  bed- 
room, and  give  its  usual  neigh,  my  father  would  jump  out  of 
bed,  open  the  window,  and  call  to  the  horse,  saying,  '  My  poor 
old  fellow,  I  will  be  with  thee  soon.'  And  when  the  animal 
died,  he  would  not  allow  its  skin  or  shoes  to  be  taken  off ;  but 
had  the  carcass  buried  entire." 

The  road  by  which  the  old  Mr.  Drew  was  accustomed  to 
travel,  to  and  from  Plymouth,  passed  along  a  very  dangerous 
place,  known  by  the  name  of  Baltern  Cliffs  ;  where,  for  about 
half  a  mile,  a  few  false  steps  might  cause  tiie  traveller  to  be 
dashed  in  pieces  on  the  rocks,  or  plunge  him,  from  a  dizzy 
height,  into  the  surges  of  the  foaming  ocean.  Here,  on  his 
return  from  Plymouth,  he  was  once  assaulted  by  two  horse- 
men, who  commanded  him  to  deliver  his  money.  His  horse 
being  heavily  laden,  escape  was  hopeless  ;  yet  he  resisted 
their  demand.  Upon  this  one  of  the  men  presented  a  pistol, 
threatening  to  shoot  and  throw  him  over  the  clifi';  and  both  of 


44 


LIFE  OF  SAMUEL  DREW. 


them,  laying  hold  of  him,  attempted  to  execute  the  latter  part 
of  the  threat.  He  called  for  help  ;  and  the  sound  of  approach- 
ing horses  caused  the  robbers,  before  they  had  executed  tlieir 
intention,  to  gallop  off  by  a  cross-road.  Presenily  two  young 
men,  who  had  heard  his  cry,  came  up,  and  learning  how  he 
had  been  attacked,  urged  him,  by  way  of  mutual  protection,  to 
turn  and  accompany  them  to  Plymouth.  This  he  declined, 
being  not  far  from  Looe,  his  usual  resting-place.  His  horse, 
however,  was  missing  ;  and  he  feared  that,  being  blind,  it 
might  have  fallen  over  the  cliff,  during  the  scuffle  with  his  as- 
sailants. He  sought  for  it  for  some  time  in  vain ;  when,  call- 
ing it  loudly  by  name,  he  was  answered  by  its  welcome  neigh, 
and  following  the  sound,  found  the  careful  animal  securely- 
lodged  in  a  recess  of  the  road,  whither  it  had  instinctively  re- 
treated.* 

*  After  the  good  man  had  been  thus  in  jeopardy,  he,  at  the  recommend- 
ation of  his  family,  procured  a  Newfoundland  dog,  to  be  the  companion 
of  his  journeys  ;  for  arms  he  would  not  carry.  Of  this  dog,  and  a  smaller 
one  that  had  been  bred  in  the  house,  Mr.  Drew  used  to  relate  the  following 
singular  story.  The  circumstance  occurred  while  he  was  thus  living  at 
Polpea,  and  was  witnessed  by  himself. 

"  Our  dairy  was  under  a  room  which  was  used  occasionally  as  a  bam 
and  apple-chamber,  into  which  the  fowls  sometimes  found  their  way, 
and,  in  scratching  among  the  chaff,  scattered  the  dust  on  the  pans  of  milk 
below,  to  the  great  annoyance  of  my  step-mother.  In  this,  a  favourite 
cock  of  hers  was  the  chief  transgressor.  One  day,  in  harvest,  she  went 
into  the  dairy,  followed  by  the  little  dog  ;  and  finding  dust  again  thrown 
on  her  milk-pans,  she  exclaimed,  '  I  wish  that  cock  were  dead.'  Not 
long  after,  she  being  with  us  in  the  harvest-field,  we  observed  the  little 
dog  dragging  along  the  cock,  just  killed,  which,  with  an  air  of  triumph, 
he  laid  at  my  step-mother's  feet.  She  was  dreadfully  exasperated  at  the 
literal  fulfilment  of  her  hastily  uttered  wish,  and,  snatching  a  stick  from  the 
hedge,  attempted  to  give  the  luckless  dog  a  beating.  The  dog,  seeing 
the  reception  he  was  likely  to  meet  with,  where  he  expected  marks  of  ap- 
probation, left  the  bird,  and  ran  off;  she  brandishing  her  stick,  and 
saying,  in  a  loud,  angry  tone,  '  I'll  pay  thee  for  this  by-and-by.'  In  the 
evening,  she  was  about  to  put  her  threat  into  execution,  when  she  found 
the  little  dog  established  in  a  corner  of  the  room,  and  the  large  one 
standing  before  it.  Endeavouring  to  fulfil  her  intention,  by  first  (driving 
off  the  large  dog,  he  gave  her  plainly  to  understand  that  he  was  not  at  all 
disposed  to  relinquish  his  post.  She  then  sought  to  get  at  the  small  dog 
behind  the  other  ;  but  the  threatening  gesture  and  fiercer  growl  of  the 
large  one  sufficiently  indicated  that  the  attempt  would  be  not  a  little  peril- 
ous. The  result  was,  that  she  was  obliged  to  abandon  her  design.  In 
killing  the  cock,  I  can  scarcely  think  that  the  dog  understood  the  precise 
import  of  my  step-mother's  wish,  as  his  immediate  execution  of  it  would 
seem  to  imply.  The  cock  was  a  more  recent  favourite,  and  had  received 
some  attentions  which  had  previously  been  bestowed  upon  himself. 
This,  I  think,  had  led  him  to  entertain  a  feeling  of  hostility  to  the  bird, 


HIS  sister's  attachment. 


45 


Between  Samuel  and  his  sister  there  was,  from  an  early 
date,  a  very  strong  attachment,  which,  instead  of  diminishing 
as  tiiey  advanced  to  maturity,  and  when  their  distinct  con- 
nections caused  a  separation  of  interests, 

"  Grew  with  their  growth,  and  strengthen'd  willi  their  strength." 

With  him  almost  the  last  object  of  his  solicitude  was  the  wel- 
fare of  that  "  dear  woman  who  had  borne  with  him  the  burden 
and  heat  of  the  day  ;"  and  her  earliest  anxiety  appears  to  have 
been  for  the  happiness  of  him  whom  she  used  to  call  "  her  dear 
Sammy."  Young  as  she  w:is,  at  the  period  we  now  record, 
not  fourteen  years  of  age,  slie  fell  most  acutely  on  his  account; 
and  knowing  him  to  be  a  rude  and  thoughtless  boy,  who  was 
prone  to  make  a  jest  of  serious  things,  she  often  prayed  that 
God  would  save  her  brother  Samuel.  "  One  night,"  she 
observes, "  I  was  thinking  about  him  in  bed,  and  praying  for 
him,  when  I  fell  asleep,  and  my  young  mind  received  great 
comfort  from  a  dream.  1  thought  I  was  in  the  garden  with  my 
brother,  mourning  over  his  state.  Wiiilein  this  situation  some 
one  informed  me  that  Samuel  must  lay  himself  down  by  the 
hedge,  and  if  I  saw  tiie  sun  shine  on  him,  he  would  be  saved. 
He  lay  down,  as  I  thought,  and  remained  a  long  time  enveloped 
in  shade.  At  length,  the  sun  shone  upon  him  in  its  briglitness, 
and  caused  me  to  rejoice  with  exceeding  joy."  She  felt 
assured,  from  this  time,  that  he  would  not  "taste  the  bitter 
pains  of  eternal  death  ;"  and  though  some  years  elapsed  before 
her  brother  experienced  a  change  of  heart,  he  eventually 
became  her  most  valued  preceptor  in  the  ways  of  right- 
eousness. 

Of  this  beloved  relative  little  can  be  said  ;  for  where  praise 
would  give  pain,  truth  must  remain  silent.  We  cannot,  how- 
ever, refrain  from  noticing  that,  besides  their  natural  affection, 
there  existed  between  Mr.  Drew  and  herself  a  true  congeniality 
of  sentiment.  Possessed  of  a  disciplined  understanding,  retined 
sensibilities,  and  unaffected  piety,  she  was  the  constant  object 
of  her  brother's  affection  ;  and  he  seldom  indulged  in  the 

which  he  did  not  presume  to  indulge,  until  my  mother's  tone  and  manner 
indic.ited  that  the  cock  was  no  longer  under  her  protection.  In  the  power 
of  communicating  with  each  other,  which  these  dogs  evidently  possessed, 
and  which,  in  some  instances,  has  been  displayed  by  other  species  of 
animals,  a  faculty  seems  to  be  developed,  of  which  we  know  very  little. — 
On  the  whole,  I  never  remember  to  have  met  with  a  case  in  which,  to 
human  appearance,  there  was  a  nearer  approach  to  moral  perception 
than  in  that  of  my  father's  two  dogs." 


46 


LIFE  OF  SAMUEL  DREW. 


remembrance  of  his  sister,  but  he  concluded  by  repeating  with 
much  feeling, 

"  Full  many  a  flower  is  born  to  blush  unseen, 
And  waste  its  sweetness  on  the  desert  air." 

The  reader  will  wish  no  apology  for  the  insertion  of  the 
following  remarkable  deliverance  from  danger,  of  which  she 
was  the  suhjecit. 

"  I  think,"  she  relates,  "it  was  some  time  in  the  month  of 
November,  1796,  wlien  I  was  about  twenty-five  years  of  age, 
that  I  met  with  the  following  occurrence.  1  had  been  at  St. 
Austell,  and  was  returniiig  lo  my  father's  house,  about  five 
o'clock  in  the  evening.  To  shorten  my  journey,  the  weather 
being  cold  and  l)()isu  reus,  I  crossed  a  river  near  the  sea,  and 
travelled  over  a  sandy  beach.  This  was  the  usual  route  when 
the  tide  permitted  ;  but  at  its  farther  extremity  I  had  to  pass 
under  a  clifl^,  which,  at  high  water,  the  influx  of  the  waves  ren- 
ders dangerous,  and  sometimes  impracti(;able.  On  approach- 
ing this  place,  I  found  that  the  tide  had  advanced  farther  than 
I  had  aiuicipated  ;  yet  thinking  myself  safe,  being  withm  half 
a  mile  of  my  home,  I  entered  the  water  without  any  apprehen- 
sion ;  hut  I  had  not  proceeded  far  before  I  found  it  much  deeper 
than  I  expected. 

"  Having  discovered  my  error,  the  cliff  being  on  my  left- 
hand,  and  the  turbulent  sea  on  my  right,  I  endeavoured  to  turn 
my  horse  and  retreat  ;  but  in  doing  this  the  poor  animal  fell 
over  a  projecting  rock.  By  this  fall  I  was  thrown  from  him 
on  the  side  next  the  sea,  and  in  an  instant  was  buried  in  the 
waves.  I,  however,  retained  my  senses,  and  aware  of  my  dan- 
ger, held  fast  by  tlie  horse,  which,  after  some  struggling,  drew 
me  safely  on  the  beach. 

"  But  although  1  had  tiuis  far  escaped  the  violence  of  the 
surf,  my  situation  was  dreadfully  insecure.  I  now  found 
myself  liemmed  in  between  two  projecting  points,  with  scarcely 
the  possibility  of  getting  around  either.  The  tide  was  also 
encroaching  rapidly  on  me,  and  the  clifl"  it  was  impossible  to 
scale.  The  wind,  M'hich  had  been  blowing  in  an  angry  man- 
ner, now  increas(  (]  its  hny.  Thimder  began  to  roll,  and  the 
vivid  lightning,  gleaming  on  the  surface  of  the  water,  just  inter- 
rupted the  surrounding  darkness,  to  show  me  the  horror  of  my 
situation.  This  was  accompanied  with  tremendous  showers 
of  hail,  from  the  violence  of  which  I  could  find  no  shelter. 
Thus  circumstanced  1  made  a  desperate  effort  to  remount  my 
horse,  resolving  to  pass  one  of  the  projecting  points,  as  my  only 


REMARKABLE  DELIVKRANCE. 


47 


chance  of  safety,  or  perish  in  the  attempt ;  but  all  my  efforts 
proved  unsuccessful,  and  to  this  inability  it  is  probable  that  I 
owe  my  life. 

"  The  tide  gaining  fast  upon  me,  the  poor  animal  instinct- 
ively mounted  a  rock  ;  and  I  wiih  difficulty  followed  the  exam- 
ple. In  this  forlorn  condition,  1  again  made  another  ineffectual 
eflbrt  to  remount,  without  duly  considering  the  inevitable 
destruction  that  awaited  me,  in  case  I  had  succeeded. 

"  The  waves,  urged  on  by  the  tempest,  to  the  whole  rigour 
of  which  I  stood  exposed,  soon  told  me  that  my  retreat  was 
unsafe.  The  rock  on  which  myself  and  horse  siood  was  soon 
covered  with  the  rising  tide,  and  at  times  we  were  so  nearly 
overwhelmed  that  I  could  literally  say,  '  Thy  waves  and  thy 
billows  are  gone  over  me.'  Surrounded  thus  by  water,  my 
horse  made  another  desperate  effort,  and  happily  gained  a  still 
more  elevated  crag.  I  followed,  but  with  considerable  diffi- 
culty ;  and  as  all  further  ascent  appeared  impracticable,  in  this 
place  I  expected  to  meet  my  fate. 

"  Under  this  impression,  with  'but  a  step  between  me  and 
death,'  1  began  seriously  to  reflect  on  the  solemnities  and  near 
approach  of  eternity,  into  which,  perhaps,  a  few  minutes  might 
hurry  my  disembodied  spirit.  In  these  awful  moments  I  can 
truly  say,  '  I  cried,  by  reason  of  mine  affliction,  unto  the  Lord, 
and  he  heard  me.'  In  the  midst  of  the  waters  I  knelt  on  a 
rock,  and  commended  my  soul  to  Him  who  hath  all  power  in 
heaven  and  earth,  well  knowing  that  he  was  able  to  say  to  the 
turbulent  ocean,  '  Hitherto  shalt  thou  come,  but  no  farther,  and 
here  shall  thy  proud  waves  be  stayed.'  At  one  time  I  felt  a 
gleam  of  hope  ;  but  this  was  speedily  destroyed  by  the  increas- 
ing waters,  which,  still  gaining  upon  us,  convinced  me  that  the 
tide  had  not  yet  reached  its  height. 

"Conceiving  my  own  deliverance  to  be  scarcely  possible,  I 
felt  anxious  for  the  escape  of  my  horse,  and  with  this  view 
endeavoured  to  disencumber  him  of  the  bridle  and  saddle,  that, 
in  attempting  to  swim,  he  might  tind  no  iinpediment  to  pre- 
vent his  reaching  the  shore.  But  while  I  was  thus  engaged, 
to  my  utter  astonishment,  by  a  violent  exertion,  the  horse  par- 
tially ascended  another  crag,  so  as  to  keep  his  head  above  the 
water.  I  was  not  long  in  attempting  a  similar  effort,  in  which 
I  happily  succeeded.  This,  however,  was  our  last  retreat ; 
for  just  over  my  head  projected  a  large  shelving  rock,  above 
wliich  it  was  impossible  to  ascend.  Here  I  sat  down,  with  a 
mind  somewhat  composed,  to  wait  the  event. 

"  After  remaining  in  this  situation  for  some  time,  I  began  to 


48 


LIFE  OF  SAMUEL  DREW. 


hope  that  the  tide  had  reached  its  height ;  and  in  this  I  was 
at  length  confirmed  by  the  Hght  of  the  rising  moon,  which, 
gleaming  on  the  rocks,  showed,  to  my  inexpressible  joy,  that 
the  water  had  actually  begun  to  subside.  I  was  now  con- 
vinced, that  if  we  could  retain  our  position  until  the  water  had 
retired,  and  I  could  survive  the  cold,  we  migiit  both  be  pre- 
served ;  but  this  was  exceedingly  doubtful.  The  posture  in 
which  my  horse  stood  was  nearly  perpendicular ;  and  I  waa 
cherished  by  the  warmth  which  proceeded  from  his  breath,  as 
I  kept  his  head  near  my  bosom,  and  derived  from  it  a  benefit 
which  experience  only  can  explain. 

"  As  the  tide  retired,  and  the  moon  rose,  I  discovered,  by  its 
increasing  liaht,  to  what  a  fearful  lieight  we  had  ascended  ;  and 
that  to  descend  in  safety  was  not  less  difficult  than  the  means 
of  getting  up  iiad  been  extraordinary.  Tiiis,  however,  was  at 
last  effected  without  any  material  accident.  On  reaching  the 
beach,  from  which  the  waves  had  now  retired,  I  endeavoured 
to  walk  towards  my  home,  but  found  myself  so  benumbed  that 
I  was  unable  ;  and  my  voice  was  so  nearly  gone  that  1  could 
not  call  for  help,  although  I  was  not  far  from  my  father's 
house,  and  near  many  kind  neighbours,  who  would  have  risked 
their  lives  to  render  me  assistance,  if  they  had  known  of  my 
situation. 

"  Being  unable  to  proceed,  I  seated  myself  upon  a  rock, 
and  expected,  from  the  intense  cold,  that  I  must  perish, 
although  I  had  escaped  the  fury  of  the  tempest,  and  the  drench- 
ing of  the  waves.  How  long  I  remained  there  I  cannot  say 
with  certainty,  but  when  almost  reduced  to  a  state  of  insensi- 
bility, I  was  providentially  discovered  in  this  position  by  my 
father's  servant,  who  had  been  sent  out  to  search  for  me ;  as, 
from  tiie  lateness  of  the  hour,  the  family  had  anticipated  some 
misfortune,  and  become  alarmed. 

"  I  had  been  in  the  water  about  three  or  four  hours,  and  ex- 
posed to  the  disasters  of  the  tempest  from  about  five  in  the 
evening  to  half-past  eleven  at  night.  I  then  reached  my  com- 
fortable dwelling  much  exhausted,  but  to  the  great  joy  of  my 
affectionate  parent,  who,  I  doubt  not,  had  been  offering  up  pe- 
titions in  my  behalf  to  Him  who  hears  the  prayers  that  are 
presented  to  him  in  sincerity. 

"  For  this  preservation  I  desire  to  thank  my  God ;  but  my 
words  are  poor,  and  insufficient  for  this  purpose.  May  all  my 
actions  praise  him,  and  may  my  lengthened  life  be  devoted  to 
his  glory  !" 


HE  WORKS  AT  MILLBUOOK. 


49 


SECTION  VI. 

Samuel  is  employed  in  the  neighbourhood  of  Plymouth — His  character 
at  that  time — Perilous  smuggling  adventure. 

Having  remaiiic<i  with  his  father's  family  from  about  mid- 
summer, 1782,  until  the  autumn  of  the  same  year,  a  situation 
was  found  for  Samuel  at  Millbrook,  on  the  Cornish  side  of  tlie 
estuary  of  the  Tamar.  To  this  place  he  was  accompanied  by 
his  father,  who,  fearing  he  might  still  be  disposed  to  indulge 
his  love  of  adventure,  recommended  him  to  the  especial  charge 
of  his  employer,  a  respectable  man,  named  Williams. 

The  harbour  of  Hamoaze  exhibited  all  the  bustle  incident  to  a 
great  naval  station  in  time  of  war.  Of  this,  Millbrook,  near  which 
the  king's  brewery  at  South  Down  is  situated,  partook.  These 
things  had  great  charms  for  Samuel.  Besides  the  novelty  of  the 
scene,  it  was  exactly  adapted  to  gratify  his  active  and  enterpris- 
ing disposition.  He  was  placed,  too,  in  a  shop  where  there  were 
many  persons  employed,  and  where  business  was  done  in  a 
more  skilful  manner,  and  upon  a  more  extensive  scale,  than 
he  had  before  witnessed.  He  therefore  went  willingly  to 
work,  and  in  the  intervals  sougiit  for  information  respecting 
surrounding  objects.  Being  now  cast  upon  his  own  resources, 
he  was  compelled  to  exercise  industry  and  economy.  He  used 
10  describe  himself  as  "  a  wretched  tool  at  the  trade,"  unable, 
in  ordinary  hours,  to  earn  more  than  eight  shillings  a  week. 
On  one  occasion,  when,  in  consequence  of  an  extraordinary 
pressure  of  business,  the  men  had  worked  many  hours  a  day, 
and  the  master  paid  him  half  a  guinea  at  tiie  week's  end,  he 
was  perfectly  astounded.  "  It  was,"  he  said,  "  a  coin  I  had 
never  handled,  and  a  sum  so  mucii  greater  than  I  had  ever 
possessed  that  I  scarcely  knew  how  to  bestow  it."  Of  his- 
domestic  economy,  at  this  first  entrance  upon  life,  he  used  fre- 
quently to  quote  instances  in  later  years,  for  the  amusement 
and  instruction  of  his  apprentices,  servants,  and  children ; 
telling  them,  that  Liskeard  was  not  the  only  place  where  he 
had    tied  his  apron-string  tighter  for  a  dinner." 

Thrown  into  collision  with  many  shop-mates,  and  subject  to 
their  jokes,  on  account  of  his  uncouth  appearance,  and  igno- 
E 


60 


LIFE  OF  SAMUEL  DREW. 


ranee  of  business,  his  faculties  were  roused  in  self-defence; 
and  in  a  little  time  he  displayed  such  quickness  at  repartee 
as  to  gain  him  the  general  respect  of  his  comrades,  few  of 
whom,  dreading  his  wit,  chose  to  be  his  assailants.  His  argu- 
mentative powers,  too,  were  now  beginning  to  develop  them- 
selves, upon  such  matters  as  were  likely  to  engage  the  atten- 
tion of  uneducated  mechanics.  "  I  very  well  remember,"  says 
a  person  who  was  then  an  apprentice  in  the  same  stiop,  "  that 
in  our  disputes,  those  who  could  get  Sam  Drew  on  their  side 
always  made  sure  of  victory  ;  and  lie  had  so  much  good-humour 
and  drollery  that  we  all  liked  him,  and  were  very  sorry  when 
he  went  away." 

After  having  been  about  a  year  in  Millbrook,  work  became 
scanty,  and  he,  with  some  others,  was  discharged.  He  then 
obtained  employment  in  the  adjoining  town  of  Kingsaiid  and 
Cawsand.  How  long  he  remained  in  this  place  is  uncertain ; 
but  while  here,  he  was  accustomed  to  engage  in  other  than 
intellectual  contests.  A  small  silver  horse,  won  by  him  as  the 
prize  of  victory  in  cudgel-playing,  was  kept  as  a  trophy,  until, 
from  his  altered  views  of  such  matters,  he  became  ashamed  of 
its  exhibition.  We  may  mention,  too,  incidentally,  that  he 
was  an  excellent  swimmer;  an  art  which  one  of  his  juvenile 
companions  says  he  acquired  while  an  apprentice,  by  making 
voyages  on  a  mill-pond  in  a  long  washing  tub,  or  tray,  which 
frequently  upset. 

His  next  residence  was  at  Crafthole,  a  village  about  six 
miles  west  of  his  late  abode,  and  contiguous  to  the  noted  smug- 
gling spot.  Port  Wrinkle.  Here  he  very  nearly  terminated  his 
life  and  adventures. 

We  have  seen  that,  during  his  apprenlii'eship,  he  more  than 
once  joined  parlies  who  were  engaged  in  smuggling  transac- 
tions, and  that  no  dishonour  was  attached  to  the  occupation. 
In  Kingsand  and  Cawsand  it  was,  to  a  great  extent,  the  secret 
business  of  tlie  place ;  and  from  his  propensity  to  engage  in 
any  ex|)loit,  it  is  very  probable  that  while  resident  there,  he  felt 
no  reluctance  to  lend  his  assistance  when  called  upon.  Such 
services,  too,  were  liberally  compensated,  in  consideration  of 
the  risk  and  personal  exposure ;  and  this  was  im  trifling  in- 
ducement to  a  youth  who  had  to  maintain  himself  upon  "eight 
shillings  a  week."  The  same  natural  disposition,  and  prospect 
of  reward,  rendered  him  equally  willing  to  take  part  in  such 
affairs  in  his  new  place  of  abode,  where  also  the  few  inhabit- 
ants depended  chiefly  upon  smuggling  for  their  subsistence. 

Port  Wrinkle,  which  Crafthole  adjoins,  lies  about  the  middle 


SMUGGLING  ADVENTURE. 


51 


of  the  very  extensive  bay  reaching  from  Looe  Island  to  the 
Rame  Head.  It  is  little  more  than  a  fissure  among  the  rocks 
which  gnard  the  long  line  of  coast ;  and  being  exposed  lo  the 
uncontrolled  violence  of  the  prevailing  winds,  atlurds  a  very 
precarious  shelter.  Notice  was  given  throughout  Cralthole, 
one  evening,  about  the  month  of  December,  1784,  that  a  vessel, 
laden  with  contraband  goods,  was  on  the  coast,  and  would  be 
ready  that  night  to  discharge  her  cargo.  At  nightfall,  Samuel 
Drew,  with  the  rest  of  the  male  population,  made  towards  the 
port.  One  party  remained  on  the  rocks  to  make  signals,  and 
dispose  of  the  goods  when  landed  ;  the  other,  of  which  he  was 
one,  manned  the  boats.  The  night  was  intensely  dark  ;  and 
but  little  progress  had  been  made  in  discharging  the  vessel's 
cargo,  when  the  wind  rose,  with  a  heavy  sea.  To  prevent 
their  vessel  from  being  driven  on  the  rocks,  the  seamen  found 
it  necessary  to  stand  off  from  the  port,  and  thus  increased  the 
hazard  of  the  boatmen.  Unfavourable  as  these  circumstances 
were,  all  seemed  resolved  to  persevere  ;  and  several  trips  were 
made  between  the  vessel  and  the  shore.  The  wind  continuing 
to  increase,  one  of  the  men  belonging  to  the  boat  in  which 
Samuel  sat  had  his  hat  blown  off,  and  in  striving  to  recover  it, 
upset  the  boat,  and  three  of  the  men  were  immediately  drowned. 
Samuel  and  two  or  three  others  clung  to  the  boat  for  a  consid- 
erable time  ;  but  finding  that  it  was  drifting  from  the  port,  they 
were  obliged  to  abandon  it,  and  sustain  themselves  by  swim- 
ming. They  were  now  about  two  miles  from  the  shore,  and 
the  darkness  prevented  them  from  ascertaining  its  direction. 
Samuel  had  given  himself  up  as  lost,  when  he  laid  hold  of  a 
mass  of  floating  sea-weed,  which  afforded  him  a  temporary  sup- 
port. At  length  he  approached  some  rocks  near  the  shore, 
upon  which  he  and  two  of  the  men,  the  only  survivors  of  seven, 
succeeded  in  getting  ;  but  they  were  so  benumbed  with  cold, 
and  so  much  exhausted  with  their  exertion  in  swimming,  that  it 
was  with  the  utmost  difficulty  they  could  maintain  their  posi- 
tion against  the  force  of  the  sea  which  sometimes  broke  ove» 
them.  Their  perilous  situation  was  not  unperceived  by  their 
comrades;  yet  their  calls  for  help,  if  heard,  were  for  a  long 
time  disregarded.  AVhen  the  vessel  had  delivered  her  cargo, 
and  put  to  sea,  a  boat  was  despatched  to  take  them  off;  and 
now,  finding  in  what  condition  Samuel  and  his  wretched  com- 
panions were,  aftei^  having  been  three  hours  in  the  water,  and 
half  of  that  time  swimming  about,  the  others  endeavoured  to 
compensate,  by  a  show  of  kindness,  for  their  previous  inhu- 
manity.   Life  being  nearly  extinct,  the  sufferers  were  carried 


52 


LIFE  OF  SAMUEL  DBEW. 


to  a  neighbouring  farm-house,  and  the  inmates  compelled  by 
threats  to  admit  them.  A  fire  was  kindled  on  the  hearih,  and 
fresh  fagots  piled  on  it,  while  the  half-drowned  men,  who  were 
placed  in  a  recess  of  the  chimney,  unable  to  relieve  themselves, 
were  compelled  to  endure  the  excessive  heal  which  their  igno- 
rant companions  thought  necessary  to  restore  animation.  One 
of  the  party,  too,  supposing  that  fire  within  would  not  be  less 
efficacious  than  fire  without,  and  believing  brandy  to  be  a  tini- 
versal  remedy,  brought  a  keg  of  it  from  the  cargo  landed,  and, 
with  the  characteristic  recklessness  of  a  sailor  and  a  smuggler, 
knocking  in  the  head  with  a  hatchet,  presented  them  with  a 
bowlful.  "Whether,"  observed  Mr.  Drew,  on  relating  this 
most  perilous  adventure,  "  we  drank  of  it  or  not,  1  do  not  know; 
certainly  not  to  the  extent  recommended,  or  I  shoidd  not  now 
be  alive  to  tell  the  tale.  My  first  sensation  was  that  of  ex- 
treme cold.  Although  half-roasted,  it  was  a  long  while  before 
I  fell  the  fire,  though  its  effects  are  still  visible  on  my  legs, 
which  were  burnt  in  several  places.  The  wounds  continued 
open  more  than  two  years,  and  the  marks  I  shall  carry  to  my 
grave.  After  leaving  the  farm-house,  I  had  to  walk  about  two 
miles  through  deep  snow,  to  my  lodgings.  When  1  think  of 
the  complicated  perils  of  that  night,  I  am  astonished  that  I  ever 
survived  them." 

On  hearing  of  his  son's  narrow  escape  from  an  untimely 
death,  the  father,  in  the  bitterness  of  his  soul,  exclaimed,  "  Alas ! 
what  will  be  the  end  of  my  poor  unhappy  boy  ?"  He  felt  ex- 
tremely desirous  of  withdrawing  Samuel  from  a  neighbourhood 
that  offered  him  so  many  inducements  to  run  into  danger,  and 
wished  to  place  him  where  he  would  be  under  his  own  inspec- 
tion, or  that  of  his  friends.  Prosecuting  his  inquiries  with  this 
view,  he  learned  that  a  young  man  who  had  lately  begun  busi- 
ness as  a  saddler  in  St.  Austell,  was  about  to  commence  shoe- 
making  also;  and  (m  making  ap[)lication,  ascertained  his  wil- 
lingness to  employ  Samuel  as  his  principal  in  that  department. 
This  being  what  the  parent  wanted,  he  communicated  with 
his  son,  and  found  him  disposed  to  accede  to  the  proposition. 
Samuel,  therefore,  after  spending  the  Christmas  in  his  father's 
house,  took  up  his  residence  in  St.  Austell. 

Thus  far  we  have  seen  Sa  muel  Drew  as  the  lively,  self-willed, 
intractable  child  ;  as  the  wild,  thoughtless,  fearless  boy  ;  as  the 
daring,  resolute,  enterprising  youth  ; — exhibiting  in  these  suc- 
cessive stages  indications  of  that  mental  vigour  which  would 
lead  its  possessor,  however  circumstanced,  to  independence  of 


PROSPECTIVE  SUMMARY. 


53 


thought  and  action.  Debarred  by  his  parents'  poverty,  and  his 
own  disposition,  from  the  advantages  of  education,  we  have 
seen  him  exposed,  ahuost  from  infancy,  to  hardsliip  and  priva- 
tion. We  have  seen  him,  in  the  first  dawning  of  reason,  after 
having  been  carefully  instructed  in  his  moral  duties  by  a  gifted 
and  affectionate  mother,  prematurely  deprived  of  her  precepts 
and  her  example.  Though  preserved,  by  her  timely  instruction 
and  the  general  decorum  of  his  father's  house,  from  profane 
language  and  gross  imnioraliiy,  yet,  for  want  of  suitable  control, 
we  have  seen  him  the  associate  of  vicious  companions,  and  the 
participator  of  their  follies.  And  We  have  seen  him,  in  his 
more  advanced  growth,  still  unrestrained  by  parental  authority, 
and  destitute  of  any  cherished  moral  or  religious  feeling,  yield- 
ing to  the  promptings  of  an  adventurous  spirit*,  and  brought,  in 
consequence,  to  the  verge  of  destruction. 

Hereafter  he  will  appear  before  us  in  a  more  matured  stage 
of  existence,  and  under  a  more  pleasing  character.  Arrived  at 
manhood,  we  shall  find  iiim  awaking  from  the  dream  of  life 
to  its  reality,  and  opening  his  eyes  to  receive  Divine  illumina- 
tion. Feeling  his  ignorance  of  natural  science,  and  of  spiritual 
things,  and  resolving,  in  the  strength  of  Almighty  God,  to 
redeem  the  time,  and  retrieve  the  past,  we  shall  find  him  putting 
forth  his  energies, — surmounting  the  obstacles  of  obscure  birth, 
poverty,  and  want  of  education, — boldly  venturing  into  untried 
regions  of  thought, — rising  to  an  honourable  station  in  literature, 
— and  acquiring  just  renown.  To  what  cause  is  such  a  change 
to  be  attributed  ?  Those  who  peruse  this  narrative  will,  we 
think,  feel  no  difficulty  in  ascribing  it  wholly  to  the  grace  of 
God,  and  the  influence  of  his  Holy  Spirit,  communicated  through 
the  atonement  of  our  Lord  Jesus  Christ. 

"So  Lycidas  sunk  low,  but  moutited  high, 
Through  the  dear  might  of  Him  who  vralked  the  waves." 


E2 


56 


LIFE  OF  SAMUEL  DREW.' 


chapel,  and,  as  far  as  religion  occupied  my  thoughts,  was  an 
Arminian  in  sentiment,  yet  I  had  very  little  serious  (eeling,  and 
no  intention  of  joining  the  Methodist  body.  But  just  then  a 
thin,  active  s-tripiiiig  came  into  the  St.  Austell  circuit  as  a 
preacher,  of  tiie  name  of  Adam  Clarke.  Him  1  heard  with 
surprise  and  attention.  I  followed  his  preacliing  whenever  I 
could  ;  and  so  did  a  midiitude  of  others.  He  gave  us  no 
dogmas,  he  forced  upon  us  no  doctrines  ;  but  he  set  us  a-lhink- 
ing  and  reasoning,  because  he  thought  and  reasoned  with  us 
hiinself.  Crowds  foilowetl  wlierever  lie  went ;  and  his  word, 
spirit,  and  coiulutt  were  severally  niad<!  blessings  to  many, 
while  his  zeal  was  the  wonder  and  profit  of  multitudes.  His 
SRrmons  were  short,  numerous,  and  earnest ;  and  though  young, 
and  looking  even  younger  than  he  really  was,  yet  he  gained 
and  maintained  an  influence  and  respect  which  none  felt 
afraid  or  ashamed  to  own.  I  well  recollect  the  time  when, 
having  to  preach  in  St.  Austell,  the  crowd  was  so  great  that  he 
could  not  get  into  the  chapel.  At  that  time  the  males  and  fe- 
males sat  on  opposite  sides  of  the  house  ;  and  that  on  which 
the  women  were  being  nearest  the  street,  he  got  in  at  one  of 
the  windows,  and  was  borne  along  upon  their  hands  and  heads, 
till,  without  touching  the  floor,  he  was  safely  landed  in  the 
pulpit.  An  elderly  member  of  the  society  once  said  to  me, 
'  When  I  saw  Adam  Clarke  enter  our  pulpit  for  the  first  time,  I 
thought  within  myself,  Well,  what  does  Mr.  Wesley  think  of  us, 
to  send  us  such  a  boy  as  this  ?  but  when  I  heard  him  preach  I 
was  astonished  ;  and  heartily  glad  I  was  that  I  did  not  tell  my 
thoughts  at  that  time  to  any  other  person.'  During  Mr.  Clarke's 
stay  in  St.  Austell,  which  was  only  one  year,  he  added  my  sis- 
ter and  me,  and  many  others,  to  the  Methodist  society." 

The  fact  to  which  Mr.  Drew  alludes  in  the  last  sentence 
being  too  important  in  his  personal  history  to  be  passed  by 
with  a  mere  intimation,  wo  venture  to  state  it  circumstantially. 
It  is  closely  connected  with  his  brother's  death,  the  particulars 
of  which  follow  in  his  sister's  words. 

"  In  the  month  of  May,  1785,  not  long  after  my  brother 
Samuel  had  gone  to  work  in  St.  Austell,  my  elder  brother, 
Jabez,  was  taken  ill.  He  had  just  then  completed  his  twenty- 
second  year.  It  was  at  first  thought  to  be  only  a  violent  cold  ; 
but  it  terminated  in  a  fever,  wliich  very  soon  proved  fatal.  He 
'-'sided  with  my  father  at  Polpea,  and  I  had  been  for  some 
time  with  a  person  in  St.  Austell,  receiving  instruction  in  nee- 
dlework ;  but  being  myself  unwell  a  little  before  his  illness,  I 
was  then  at  my  father's  house.    A  few  months  before,  Mr. 


HIS  brother's  death. 


67 


Wrigley,  when  preaching  at  Tywaidreath,  in  the  ardour  of  his 
zeal,  strenuously  urged  upon  the  congregation,  and  especially 
the  young,  the  expediency  of  joining  the  Methodist  society. 
Several  young  men  were  induced,  apparently  without  any 
serious  feeling,  to  give  the  preacher  their  names,  as  disposed  to 
follow  his  advice;  and  among  them  my  brother  Jabez.  They 
soon  discoiitimied  their  atteiidaiice,  and  some  of  them  made 
what  they  had  heanl  at  class-meetings  a  matter  of  ridicule. 
My  brother  did  not  fall  into  this  error;  for /(C  had  always 
shown  an  outward  respect  for  religion,  while  Samuel  did  not 
scruple  to  scoff'  at  serious  things.*  But,  knowing  that  he  had 
imbibed  too  much  of  the  disposition  of  his  thoughtless  asso- 
ciates, and  that  he  was  far  from  such  a  state  of  conscious  ac- 
ceptance with  God  as  he  felt  to  be  necessary  to  his  peace,  he 
experienced,  when  taken  ill,  great  mental  anxiety,  and  soon 
the  most  bitter  anguish.  At  first  he  was  not  considered  to  be 
in  danger;  but  within  a  week  his  disease  assumed  a  more  ma- 
lignant character. 

"In  this  stage  of  my  brother's  illness  Mr.  Clarke  was  intro- 
duced to  him  by  his  sorrowful  parents  ;  and  he,  not  knowing 
how  great  his  anguish  was,  and  fearing  to  heal  the  wound 
slightly,  probed  it  (as  my  father  expressed  it)  a  little  too  deep. 
The  agony  of  his  mind  was  extreme.  All  hope  appeared  to 
forsake  him  ;  and  despair,  for  a  season,  seized  him  as  its  prey. 
Our  step-mother,  being  herself  a  stranger  to  personal  reli- 
gion, attributed  my  brother's  anguish  wholly  to  Mr.  Clarke's 
visit;  and,  from  a  mistaken  affection,  now  forbade  Mr.  C,  or 
any  other  Methodist,  to  see  him  ;  thus  keeping  from  him  those 
who  might  have  administered  consolation. 

"How  long  he  remained  in  this  fearful  condition  I  do 
not  exactly  recollect.  My  father  afterward  told  me  that  he 
could  not  endure  to  enter  his  son's  apartment,  such  horror 
appeared  on  his  countenance.  My  father  would  retire  into 
the  recesses  of  the  orchard  Lo  pour  out  his  soul  to  God  ;  and 
frequently  was  he  summoned  from  his  knees  to  attend  upon  his 
despairing  child.  One  day,  when  thus  wrestling  in  prayer,  he 
was  called  to  come  instantly  to  Jabez.  Supposing  him  to  be 
either  dead  or  dying,  with  feelings  wrought  up  to  intense  agony, 
he  went  into  the  sick  chamber  ;  when,  to  his  astonishment  and 
joy,  instead  of  hearing  his  son's  groans,  and  beholding  his  hor- 

*  Either  on  this,  or  on  some  previous  occasion,  Samuel  was  present  at 
one  of  these  class-meetings  ;  and  when  the  leader  addressed  him  per- 
sonally, he,  with  his  usual  recklessness  and  hardihood,  replied,  "  This  may 
be  your  day  of  examination,  but  it  is  not  w.y  day  of  confession." 


58 


LIFE  OF  SAMUEL  DREW. 


ror-stricken  visage,  he  saw  a  radiant  smile  illuminating  his  pale 
countenance,  and  was  received  with  the  delightful  salutation, 
'  Now,  my  dear  father,  all  is  well  ;  I  have  on  the  wedding-gar- 
meni !  Return  thanks  to  God,  dear  father.  I  am  going  to 
glory!' 

"  In  this  delightful  frame  of  mind  my  brother  Jabez  continued, 
though  without  a  prospect  of  recovery.  Apprehending  his  end 
to  be  near,  he  wished  to  see  my  brother  Samuel  and  myself 
(for  I  had  returned  a  few  days  before  to  St.  Austell) ;  and  a 
messenger  was  sent  to  fetch  us.  Until  tiiis  time,  Samuel,  con- 
trary to  his  natural  tenderness  of  disposition,  had  shown  much 
indifference  about  his  brother's  illness.  One  day  a  report 
rea(died  me  that  Jabez  was  dead  ;  and  when,  overwhelmed 
with  sorrow,  I  sought  Samuel,  instead  of  evincing  concern,  he 
ridiculed  my  grief,  saying  to  me,  '  Why,  Tammy,  what's  the 
use  of  crying?  If  Jabez  is  dead,  he  must  be  buried  ;  that's  all 
I  know  about  it.'  However,  when  the  messenger  came  with 
horses  to  fetch  us,  his  manner  altered  ;  and  he  became  serious 
and  thoughtful.  My  feelings,  on  seeing  the  pale  and  emaciated 
but  happy  countenance  of  my  eldest  brother,  1  do  not  attempt 
to  describe.  With  his  trembling  hand  he  strove  to  wipe  the 
tears  from  my  face,  saying,  '  My  dear  sister,  do  not  mourn. 
Whether  I  live  or  die,  I  am  the  Lord's.'  What  passed  at  the 
interview  between  my  brothers  I  do  not  know.  I  can  only 
judge  from  its  efTecl^.  From  that  moment  Samuel  became  an 
altered  character.  The  next  day  my  brother  Jabez  appeared 
to  revive,  and  some  faint  hopes  were  entertained  of  his  recov- 
ery ;  but  alas  !  it  was  only 

'  Like  .some  wax  taper  just  before  it  dies 
Swells  biu  with  life,  and  gives  a  fairer  light, 
As  if  it  were  prophetic  of  its  end.' 

On  the  day  following,  which  was  Sunday,  he  became 
worse,  and  at  eleven  o'clock  that  night,  with  expressions  of 
delightful  prospects  and  undiminished  conhdence,  he  died, 
happy  in  the  Lord.  Such  was  the  effect  of  my  brother's  death 
on  me,  that  I  became  seriously  ill,  and  was  laid  up  several 
weeks  at  my  father's  house.  When  I  retm-ned  to  St.  Austell,! 
found  that  Samuel  had  joined  the  Methodist  society,  and  was 
actively  engaged  in  labours  of  public  usefulness." 

A  funeral  sermon  was  preached  on  the  day  of  Jabez  Drew's 
interment,  from  the  steps  of  his  father's  barn,  by  Mr.  Adam 
Clarke,  to  a  very  great  concourse  of  people.    His  text  was, 


HE  JOINS  THE  METHODISTS. 


59 


"We  must  needs  die,  and  be  as  water  spilt  on  the  ground, 
which  cannot  be  gathered  up  again."  In  the  course  of  his  ser- 
mon, which  was  most  impressive,  and  rendered  a  blessing  to 
many,  he  took  occasion,  wiiile  expressing  his  conviction  that 
the  eternal  safety  of  Jabez  Drew  was  beyond  a  doubt,  to  de- 
scribe the  nature,  trace  the  progress,  and  enforce  the  necessity 
of  conversion  to  God.  This  sermon  Samuel  heard.  The 
fallow  ground  of  his  heart  had  been  just  broken  up  by  the  in- 
terview with  his  dying  brother;  his  attention  was  awakened; 
and  on  this  occasion  he  appears  to  have  obtained  those  views  of 
divine  truth  which  had  a  saving  influence  on  himself,  and  were 
afterward  maintained  by  him  from  the  pulpit  and  the  press. 

A  very  intimate  friend  of  Mr.  Drew,  whose  religious  course 
commenced  at  the  same  period,  says,  "  Mr.  Clarke's  sermon 
at  the  funeral  of  Jabez  Drew,  which  I  attended,  and  the  serious 
advice  of  a  good  man  on  the  way  home,  led  me  to  join  the 
Metliodist  society.  I  received  my  note  of  admission  on  the 
28th  of  May,  within  a  week  of  the  funeral ;  and  I  think  Sam- 
uel received  his  not  more  than  a  month  afterward. 

"  Two  circumstances  in  relation  to  him  I  very  well  remem- 
ber, which  show  that  he  must  have  joined  the  Methodists  in 
June,  1785.  One  Sunday  evening,  after  I  had  become  a  mem- 
ber, Mr.  Wrigley,  the  superintendent,  gave  notice,  that  after  the 
service  he  would  address  tiie  society.  Observing  two  or  three 
persons,  not  members,  remaining  in  their  pews,  he  said  that 
the  meeting  was  intended  for  the  society  only;  but  remarked, 
as  these  individuals  were  going  out,  that  he  had  no  olijectioa 
for  any  seriously  disposed  person  to  remain.  Upon  this,  a  fe- 
male [)resent  said  aloud,  '  Sammy  Drew  wishes  to  stop ;'  and 
Mr.  John  Rosevear,  the  good  man  who  persuaded  me  to  join 
the  society,  instantly  ran  out  of  the  chapel,  and  overtaking  him, 
prevailed  on  him  to  return.  I  have  heard  Mr.  Drew,  when 
referring  to  this  circumstance,  more  than  once  say,  '  I  felt  so 
much,  on  being  directly  ordered  to  leave  the  chapel,  that  but  for 
the  personal  and  pressing  invitation  of  the  old  man,  I  believe  I 
should  never  have  connected  myselt  with  the  Methodists. 
The  midsummer  quarterly  meeting  was  not  then  held  in  St. 
Austell,  but  at  Medras,  about  four  miles  froin  the  town.  Sam- 
uel and  I  attended,  and  both  remained  at  the  love-feast*  as 

*  Love-feasts,  so  termed  from  the  Agapae  of  the  ancient  Christians, 
are,  among  the  Methodists,  meetings  of  the  societies,  in  which  the  mem- 
bers individually,  if  so  disposed,  relate  to  the  others  their  past  reli- 
gious conflicts  and  deliverances,  and  their  present  feelings  and  prospects. 
Considerable  misapprehension  relative  to  these  meetings  probably  exists. 


60 


LIFE  OF  SAMUEL  DREW. 


members.  It  was  a  clear,  starlight  night;  and  on  returning, 
with  .several  oiher  young  people,  I  recollect  how  much  we 
were  all  struck  by  the  manner  m  which  he  repeated  that  beau- 
tiful hymn  of  Addison's, 

'  The  spacious  firmament  on  high,'  &c. 

Between  the  Sunday  evening  to  which  I  have  referred  and  this 
evening  he  must,  therefore,  have  joined  the  society  ;  and  it  was 
not  long  after  this  that  he  stated  in  a  love-feast  at  St.  Austell, 
his  having  first  felt  that  peace  of  mind  which  arises  from  'the 
remission  of  sins  that  are  past,'  while  he  was  secretly  engaged 
in  prayer  under  a  tree." 

Mr  Drew's  sister  says,  that  at  a  quarterly  love-feast,  soon 
after  her  brother's  conversion  (she  thinks  the  Michaelmas 
quarier),  she  and  her  brother  attended.  Their  father  had 
spoken  in  the  meeting  very  feelingly  ;  and,  going  homeward, 
Samuel  said  to  her,  "  Oh  !  how  I  felt  the  words  of  that  hymn 
which  father  repeated,  and  what  he  said  about  his  readiness  to 
die !  Tliey  penetrated  my  very  soul  !  I  believe  father  is  a 
good  man."  Though,  either  at  this  or  some  other  early  peiiod 
of  his  religious  course,  he  observed,  "  I  remember  how  vexed 
I  used  formerly  to  be,  that  father  did  not  conduct  himself  like 
many  irreligious  parents." 

We  have  been  thus  minute  in  this  part  of  our  narrative,  be- 
cause it  recounts  what  we  think  must  be  regarded  as  the 
most  interesting  and  important  epoch  of  Mr.  Drew's  life. 
We  do  not  thus  designate  it  because  of  his  connection  at 
this  time  with  a  particular  religious  body,  or  the  adoption  of 
any  peculiar  creed  ;  but  because  a  period  had  now  arrived,  from 
which,  in  his  apprehension  of  religious  truth,  he  could  say, 
"  Once  was  I  darkness,  but  now  am  I  light  in  the  Lord,"  and, 
with  reference  to  his  views,  and  habits,  and  desires,  "Old 
things  are  passed  away  ;  behold  all  things  are  become  new." 

This  period  especially  demands  attention,  because  we  thence 
perceive  a  direction  given  to  that  mental  energy,  and  trace  the 
full  (h^velopment  and  beneficial  application  of  those  intellectual 
powers,  which  afterward  raised  their  possessor  into  distinction. 
Nor  is  the  coiiiicction  here  exhibited  between  a  religious  life 
and  great  mental  a])plication  a  mailer  of  trivial  importance  ;  for 
every  such  instance  tends  to  establish  the  position,  that  vital 
religion  is  not  opposed  to  the  exercise  of  intellect,  but  becomes 
its  powerful  auxiliary. 

There  is  anotherpoint  of  view  in  which  this  period  of  Mr. 


HE  WORKS  AT  ST.  AUSTELL. 


61 


Drew's  life  is  of  more  than  usual  importance.  Comparing  his 
deportment  and  habits  previously  and  subsequently,  we  cannot 
but  infer,  that  the  religion  which  he  espoused  was  not  a  mere 
theory,  not  a  matter  of  opinion,  but  something  experimental, 
influential,  and  practical — something  capable  of  changing  the 
whole  current  of  the  thoughts  and  purposes — something  to  be 
known,  and  felt,  and  enjoyed.  This  change  which  he  experi- 
enced, and  which,  in  its  effects,  was  seen  in  the  whole  tenour 
of  iiis  after  life,  is  properly  termed  conversion.  It  is  such  a 
change  as  this,  reaching  to  the  very  thoughts  and  intents  of  the 
heart,  which,  according  to  our  apprehensions  of  Scripture, 
every  fallen  child  of  Adam  must  experience,  or,  "  he  can  in 
nowise  enter  into  the  kingdom  of  heaven." 


SECTION  VIII. 

Mr.  Drew  begins  to  work  in  St.  Austell  as  a  journeyman  shoemaker — Hit 
master's  character — His  first  literary  bias — He  commences  business 
for  himself— His  difficulties  and  perseverance. 

That  those  circumstances  in  Mr.  Drew's  life,  which  are 
closely  allied  to  each  other,  and  which  gave  direction  to  his 
future  pursuits,  might  be  noticed  in  their  natural  connection, 
the  order  of  time  has  been  a  little  anticipated  in  the  preceding 
section.  So  intimate  is  the  relationship  between  his  religious 
and  his  literary  life,  that  to  present  them  separately  to  the 
reader  would  be  impossible.  They  mutually  affected  and 
influenced  each  other.  Operating  upon  a  mind  naturally 
bold  and  independent,  religious  conviction  did  not  supei-sede 
rational  inquiry,  nor  was  assertion  mistaken  for  evidence. 
Fully  sensible,  from  what  he  had  himself  experienced  of  the 
supreme  importance  and  general  truth  of  personal  religion,  he 
was  led  to  investigate  closely  the  various  particulars  of  his 
creed,  and  to  culiivate  his  mind,  that  he  might  be  competent  to 
the  investigation.  Tliose  events  which  may  be  regarded  as 
introductory  to  his  mental  cultivation,  and  the  formation  of  his 
character,  having  been  tlirown  into  one  view,  without  scrupu- 
lous regard  to  chronological  arrangement.  We  now  resume 
the  thread  of  our  narrative,  quoting  occasionally  Mr.  Drew's 
own  words  from  two  short  auto-biographical  sketches  which 
have  already  appeared  in  print. 


62 


LIFE  OF  SAMUEL  DREW. 


Referring  to  the  time  immediately  preceding  his  coming  to 
St.  Austell,  he  sa3's,  "  I  was  scarcely  able  to  read,  and  almost 
totally  unable  to  write.  Literature  was  a  term  to  which  I  could 
annex  no  idea.  Grammar  I  knew  not  the  meaning  of.  I  was 
expert  at  follies,  acute  in  trifles,  and  ingenious  about  nonsense." 
This  description  accords  very  nearly  with  what  we  have 
already  seen  of  him.  Some  ability  to  write  he  must,  however, 
have  possessed  at  this  time;  because  his  sister  had  received 
more  than  one  letter  from  him.  Yet,  that  his  performance 
could  not  have  been  otherwise  than  indifferent,  may  be  inferred 
from  a  friend's  comparing  his  writing,  after  several  years'  prac- 
tice, to  the  "  traces  of  a  spider  dipped  in  ink,  and  set  to  crawl 
on  paper." 

It  was,  as  we  have  already  noticed,  in  or  about  January, 
178.5,  that  Mr.  Drew  entered  St.  Austell  as  a  journeyman  shoe- 
maker; not  having  then  completed  his  twentieth  year.  This, 
though  less  than  he  stales  his  age  to  be  in  his  auto-biography, 
accords  with  the  recollections  of  Dr.  Clarke,  who,  in  his  notice 
of  Mr.  Drew,  as  having  been  converted  under  his  ministry,  rep- 
resents him  as  then  "finishing  his  apprenticeship." 

The  history  of  his  juvenile  years  proves  that  he  possessed 
great  decision  of  character.  'J'liis  mark  of  a  vigorous  mind 
was  frequently  shown  in  after  life.  When  brought  under  tlie 
chastening  influence  of  religion,  iiis  conduct  was  no  longer 
chargeable  with  folly  or  extravagance; ;  yet  it  generally  indi^ 
cated  an  independent  spirit.  His  present  employer,  whom  he 
represents  as  intelligent,  though  eccentric,  soon  discovered  in 
the  journeyman  a  disposition,  in  many  respects,  like  his  own  ; 
and  in  consequence  of  this  kindred  temper,  and  a  similarity  of 
age,  master  and  man  felt  a  mutual  regard.  The  one,  as  Mr. 
Drew  expresses  it,  was  "  Iludibras,"  and  the  other  "Ralph;" 
and  in  most  inatters  Iludibras  made  Ralph  his  confidant.  In 
the  house  where  Samuel  lodu;ed  there  was  a  feiuale  servant  to 
wiiom  his  master  was  attached.  C'om-huliiig  tliat  the  alliance 
would  not  be  approved  by  hi.s  fi  iends,  he  endeavoured  to  keep 
them  in  ignorance  ;  but  in  this  he  did  not  succeed.  His  father, 
understanding  that  Samuel  was  in  the  secret,  applied  to  him  for 
information  ;  but  he  was  mule.  That  the  old  gentleman  might 
not  be  displeased  or  grieved,  he  at  length  promised  to  commu- 
nicate all  lie  might  know  of  tiie  matter  for  the  future.  He  then 
related  to  his  master  the  conversation,  and  added,  "  Now  keep 
your  own  counsel ;  tell  me  none  of  your  secrets,  and  I  cannot 
repeal  them.  But  depend  upon  it,  if  you  forget,  I  shall  be  as 
good  as  my  word  to  your  father."    His  master  thanked  him 


THIRST  FOR  KNOWLEDGE  AWAKENED. 


63 


for  his  candour,  and  said  lie  would  follow  his  advice.  Not  long 
after,  feeling  that  "untold  pleasure  wanted  half  its  charms," 
he  again  spoke  to  Samuel  on  the  subject;  and  he,  in  fulfilment 
of  his  engagement,  communicated  what  he  had  heard  to  the 
parents.  The  incident,  though  trivial,  shows  his  plain  dealing 
and  fixedness  of  purpose. 

The  character  of  his  employer,  the  circumstances  in  which 
he  now  found  himself,  his  desire  and  determination  to  acquire 
knowledge,  his  method  of  study,  the  facilities  afforded  him,  and 
the  difficulties  which  he  had  to  overcome,  cannot  be  so  well 
described  as  in  his  own  words :  — 

"  My  master  was  by  trade  a  saddler,  had  acquired  some 
knowledge  of  bookbinding,  and  hired  me  to  carry  on  the  shoe- 
making  for  him.  He  was  one  of  those  men  who  will  live  any- 
where, but  will  get  rich  nowhere  His  shop  was  frequented' 
by  persons  of  a  more  respectable  class  than  those  with  whom  I 
had  previously  associated,  and  various  topics  became  alter- 
nately the  subjects  of  conversation.  I  listened  with  all  that 
attention  which  my  labour  and  good  manners  would  permit, 
and  obtained  among  them  some  Httle  knowledge.  About  this 
time,  disputes  ran  high  in  St.  Austell  between  the  Calvinists 
and  Arminians,  and  our  shop  .afforded  a  considerable  scene  of 
action.  In  cases  of  uncertain  issue,  I  was  sometimes  appealed 
to  to  decide  upon  a  doubtful  point.  This,  perhaps  flattering 
my  vanity,  became  a  new  stimulus  to  action.  I  examined  dic- 
tionaries, picked  up  many  words,  and,  from  an  attachment 
which  I  felt  to  books  which  were  occasionally  brought  to  the 
shop  to  be  bound,  I  began  to  have  some  view  of  the  various 
theories  with  which  they  abounded.  The  more  I  read,  the 
more  I  felt  my  own  ignorance ;  and  the  more  I  felt  my  igno- 
rance, the  more  invincible  became  my  energy  to  surmount  it. 
Every  leisure  moment  was  now  employed  in  reading  one  thing 
or  other.  Having,  however,  to  support  myself  by  manual 
labour,  my  time  for  reading  was  but  little  ;  and  to  overcome  this 
disadvantage,  my  usual  method  was  to  place  a  book  before  me 
while  at  meat,  and  at  every  repast  1  read  five  or  six  pages.  Al- 
though the  providence  of  God  has  raised  me  above  this  inces- 
sant toil,  when  I  could  '  barely  earn  enough  to  make  life 
struggle,'  yet  it  has  become  so  habitual,  that  the  custom  has 
not  forsaken  me  at  the  present  moment. 

"  After  having  worked  with  this  master  several  months,  I 
well  recollect,  a  neighbouring  gentleman  brought  '  Locke's 
Essay  on  the  Human  Understanding'  to  be  bound.  I  had 
never  seen  or  heard  of  this  work  before.    I  took  an  occasion  to 


64 


LIFE  OF  SAMUEL  DREW. 


look  into  it,  and  I  thought  his  mode  of  reasoning  very  pleasing, 
and  his  arguments  exceedingly  strong.  I  watched  all  oppor- 
tunities of  reading  for  myself,  and  would  willingly  have 
laboured  a  fortnight  to  have  the  books.  I  had  then  no  (concep- 
tion that  they  could  be  obtained  for  money.  They  were,  how- 
ever, soon  carried  away,  and  with  them  all  my  future  improve- 
ment by  their  means.  The  close  and  decisive  manner  of  Mr. 
Locke's  reasoning  made  on  my  mind  an  impression  too  deep 
to  be  easily  effaced  ;  and  though  I  did  not  see  his  Essay  again 
for  many  years,  yet  the  early  impression  was  not  forgotten, 
and  it  is  from  this  accidental  circumstance  that  I  received  my 
first  bias  for  abstruse  subjects." 

To  a  friend  he  observed,  "  This  book  set  all  my  soul  to 
think;  to  feel  and  to  reason,  from  all  without  and  from  all 
within.  It  gave  the  first  metaphysical  turn  to  my  mind  :  and 
I  cultivated  the  little  knowledge  of  writing  which  I  had  ac- 
quired, in  order  to  put  down  my  reflections."  He  elsewhere 
remarks,  "  It  awakened  me  from  my  stupor,  and  induced  me 
to  form  a  resolution  to  abandon  the  grovelling  views  which  I 
had  been  accustomed  to  entertain." 

In  another  account  which  Mr.  Drew  gives  of  this  period, 
there  are  some  additional  facts  noticed,  which  we  present  to 
the  reader. 

"  In  this  situation  I  found  myself  surrounded  by  books  of 
various  descriptions,  and  felt  my  taste  for  the  acquirement  of 
information  return  with  renewed  vigour,  and  increase  in  pro- 
portion to  the  means  of  indulgence  which  were  now  placed 
fully  within  my  reach.  But  here  some  new  difficulties 
occurred,  with  which  I  found  it  painful  to  grapple.  My  know- 
ledge of  the  import  of  words  was  as  contracted  as  my  ideas 
were  scanty  ;  so  that  I  found  it  necessary  to  keep  a  diction- 
ary continually  by  my  side  while  I  was  reading,  to  which  I 
was  compelled  constantly  to  refer.  This  was  a  tedious  pro- 
cess. But  in  a  little  time  the  difficulty  wore  away,  and  my 
horizon  of  knowledge  became  enlarged." 

From  the  time  of  his  union  with  the  Methodists,  Mr.  Drew 
became  intellectually  as  well  as  spiritually  "  a  new  creature." 
He  no  longer  tolerated  indolence  of  body  or  mind.  Diligence 
in  business  and  fervency  of  spirit  were  happily  combined  ; 
and  his  consistent  deportment,  elevated  sentiment,  and  un- 
affected piety,  gained  him  many  friends.  It  is  not  known  what 
course  of  reading  he  at  first  pursued.  Most  probably  it  was 
desultory,  confined  chiefly,  if  not  wholly,  to  the  books  brought 


HE  COMMENCES  BUSINESS. 


65 


to  his  master's  shop ;  nor  was  any  specific  direction  given  to 
his  inquiries,  until  Locke's  Essay  fell  into  his  hands.  One 
book  he  mentions  as  having  highly  delighted  him,  and  at  the 
same  lime  deepened  his  religious  impressions,  and  given  him 
clearer  views  of  vital  Christianity.  This  was  the  "  Pilgrim's 
Progress"  of  John  Bunyan, — 

"  Ingenious  dreamer,  in  whose  well  told  tale 
Sweet  fiction  and  plain  truth  alike  prevail." 

It  was  the  first  book  he  could  call  his  own,  and  next  to  the 
Bible  it  was  his  companion.  Throughout  his  life  he  evinced 
a  great  predilection  for  the  indirect  mode  of  conveying  instruc- 
tion by  tale  and  apologue,  which  may  be  traced  to  this  early 
impression. 

Continuing  his  narrative,  Mr.  Drew  observes,  "  My  master 
growing  inattentive  to  his  shoemaking,  many  of  my  friends 
•advised  me  to  commence  business  for  myself,  and  oft'ered  me 
money  for  that  purpose.  I  accepted  the  oiler,  started  accord- 
ingly, and  by  dint  of  application,  in  about  one  year  discharged 
my  debts,  and  stood  alone." 

The  history  of  this  year,  which  is  thus  compressed  within  a 
sentence,  would,  if  fully  known,  afford  many  a  useful  lesson  to 
young  tradesmen  with  small  capitals.  A  few  particulars  are 
yet  remembered,  which  may  interest  if  they  do  not  benefit  the 
reader. 

His  thirst  for  knawledge  having  induced  him  to  lay  out  in 
books  such  money  as  he  could  save  from  his  earnings  as  a 
journeyman,  when  he  was  recommended  to  begin  business  on 
his  own  accoimt,  fourteen  shillings  was  the  total  of  iiis  casli. 
To  his  father  he  applied  for  assistance ;  but  the  old  man  was 
constitutionally  timid,  especially  about  secular  undertakings  ; 
and  to  prevent  his  son's  embarking  in  business,  refused  to  aid 
him.  A  miller  with  whom  he  was  acquainted,  then  a  serious 
man,  was  particularly  urgent  for  him  to  commence.  Mr. 
Drew  stated  to  him  this  difficulty,  and  his  friend  replied,  "  That 
shall  not  hinder  you  from  beginning.  I'll  lend  you  five  pounds 
upon  the  security  of  your  good  character,  and  more  if  that's  ndt 
enough ;  and  I'll  promise  not  to  demand  it  till  you  can  con- 
veniently pay  me."    This  generous  offer  was  accepted. 

At  this  juncture  Dr.  Franklin's  "  Way  to  Wealth"  fell  into 
his  hands.  The  pithy  and  excellent  advice  of  "  Poor  Richard" 
delighted  him.  He  placed  it  in  a  conspicuous  situation  in  his 
chamber,  and  resolved  to  follow  its  maxims. 

F  2 


65 


LIFE  OF  SAMUEL  DRBW. 


"  Vessels  large  may  venture  more, 
But  little  boats  should  keep  near  shore," 

was  applied  to  a  practical  purpose  at  the  very  outset.  He 
took  part  of  a  small  house,  at  a  low  rent,  and  "  cut  his  gar- 
ment according  to  the  cloth."  "It  is  better  to  go  to  bed  sup- 
perless  than  rise  in  debt,"  was  another  maxim  upon  which  he 
acted  ;  and  he  took  care  that  the  "  sound  of  his  hammer" 
should  be  heard  from  "  five  in  the  morning  till  ten  at  night." 
"  Eighteen  hours  out  of  the  twenty-four,"  he  has  since  said, 
"Jdid  I  regularly  work,  and  sometimes  longer;  for  my  friends 
gave  me  plenty  of  employment ;  but  until  the  bills  became  due, 
I  had  no  means  of  paying  wages  to  a  journeyman.  I  was  in- 
defatigable ;  and  at  the  year's  end  I  had  the  satisfaction  of  pay- 
ing the  five  pounds  which  had  been  so  kindly  lent  me,  and  find- 
ing myself,  with  a  tolerable  stock  of  leather,  clear  of  the 
world." 

Not  many  years  afterward,  the  miller  who  had  shown  so 
much  kindness  to  Mr.  Drew,  forgot  his  God,  became  an  aban- 
doned drunkard,  and,  as  a  natural  consequence,  reduced  him- 
self and  his  family  to  want.  He  came  one  day  into  Mr.  D.'s 
shop,  and  said,  "  Sam,  I  want  you  to  lend  me  five  pounds." 
"For  some  time,"  said  Mr.  Drew,  "I  hesitated,  whether  I 
ought  to  let  him  have  it  or  not.  I  knew  very  well  that  I  should 
never  be  repaid  ;  but  this  was  not  the  difficulty.  If  I  put  five 
pounds  into  his  hands,  I  thought,  it  will  be  but  tempting  him  to 
commit  sin  ;  and  perhaps  it  is  my  duty  to  deny  him.  On  the 
other  hand,  I  considered,  '  Here  stands  the  man  to  whose  kind- 
ness I  owe  all  that  I  possess  in  the  world  :  I  know  he  is  poor, 
and  his  family  wanting  necessaries.  He  asks  me  to  return  the 
favour  he  once  conferred  upon  me.  I  am  not  certain  that  he 
will  misapply  the  money  ;  and  I  dare  not  refuse,'  I  had  not 
the  money  by  me ;  but  I  borrowed  it  of  a  friend,  in  order  to 
help  him  to  whose  former  kindness  I  was  so  deeply  indebted." 

According  to  the  date  of  an  old  account-book,  Mr.  Drew 
began  business  in  January,  1787.  He  continued  in  his  former 
lodgings  a  few  months;  but  having  an  apprentice  soon  after 
his  commencement,  he  thought  it  would  be  more  convenient 
and  economical  to  live  on  his  own  premises.  He  then  made 
application  to  his  father,  and,  to  their  mutual  joy,  obtained  per- 
mission for  his  sister  to  live  with  him  as  housekeeper.  A  few 
mean  articles  of  furniture  were  also  given  him  by  his  parent, 
■who  now  found  that  opposition  was  unavailing. 

Many,"  observes  Mr.  Drew's  sister,  "  were  the  distressing 


PECUNIARY  DIFFICCLTlEa, 


67 


privations  my  brother  and  I  underwent  the  first  year.  His 
resolution  to  '  owe  no  man  any  tiling'  was  unconquerable  ;  and 
I  bore  every  thing  cheerfully  for  his  sake.  Our  family  con- 
nections being  respectable,  no  one  suspected  our  poverty. 
Though  we  managed  to  give  the  apprentice  food  enough,  we 
often  went  with  a  scanty  allowance  ourselves.  Sometimes  we 
•were  driven  to  great  straights  for  want  of  money ;  but  my 
brother's  resolution  to  keep  out  of  debt  continued  unshaken. 
One  market-day,  a  relation  called  on  us  from  a  distance.  I 
wanted  to  buy  provisions  ;  but  neither  my  brother  nor  I  had 
any  money.  Not  liking,  in  the  presence  of  a  stranger,  to  ex- 
pose our  poverty,  I  said  to  my  brother,  with  assumed  careless- 
ness, '  'Tis  time  for  me  to  go  to  market.  Have  you  any  sil- 
ver? I  have  none.'  On  his  replying  in  the  negative,  our 
visiter  put  some  silver  into  my  hand,  saying,  '  Take  this.  You 
can  pay  me  the  next  time  I  call.'  Necessity  compelled  us  to 
accept  this  seasonable  ofier,  without  which  I  know  not  what 
we  should  have  done. 

"  Through  the  kindness  and  influence  of  my  brother's  friends, 
he  obtained  a  great  many  genteel  customers  ;  and  was  obliged, 
in  some  degree,  to  keep  up  a  creditable  appearanc^e.  This  fre- 
quently added  to  our  difiiculties.  Towanls  the  end  of  the  first 
year  business  increased  so  much  that  he  was  compelled  to 
employ  a  journeyman.  Ho  could  not  pay  him  board  wages, 
and  therefore  the  man  was  to  live  witli  us.  We  had  two 
rooms,  and  but  two  beds  ;  one  I  occupied,  and  in  the  other  my 
brother  and  his  apprentice  slept.  It  was  at  length,  after  much 
reluctance  on  my  brother's  part,  agreed  to  place  my  bed  in  his 
room  for  the  man,  and  substitute  mine  by  a  bundle  of  straw. 
I  used  to  carry  on  a  little  business  of  my  own  as  a  semptress, 
and  had  many  female  acquaintances  calling  to  see  me;  but 
after  getting  my  straw  bed,  I  would  never  admit  them  into  my 
room,  lest  they  should  discover  '  the  nakedness  of  the  land,' 
and  prejudice  my  brother's  business. 

"  Sometimes  my  spirits  would  fail  me  under  these  trying 
circumstances,  and  my  mind  would  sink  into  a  state  of  gloom 
and  despondency.  But  my  dear,  noble-minded  brother  was 
just  the  spiritual  preceptor  and  comforter  I  wanted.  When  he 
saw  me  in  perplexity,  he  would  saj'.  'Cheer  up,  my  sister;  — 
have  faith  in  God  ; — there  are  brighter  days  in  store.'  And 
very  soon  the  clouds  began  to  pass  away." 

Unfavourable  to  mental  cultivation  as  was  the  state  of  rest- 
less anxiety  arising  from  Mr.  Drew's  pecuniary  difficulties,  yet 


68 


LIFE  OF  SAMUEL  DREW. 


liis  tlioughts  were  in  vigorous  exercise,  and  his  ardent  thirst  for 
knowledge  increased.  But  if,  in  the  midst  of  his  privations, 
his  soul  ever  glowed  with  tlie  anticipation  of  rising  from  ob- 
scurity, he  might  with  exquisite  propriety  have  exclaimed, 

"  Ah  !  who  can  tell  how  hard  it  is  to  climb 
The  steep  where  fame's  proud  temple  shines  afar  ?" 


SECTION  IX. 

Literary  pursuits — Appointed  a  local  preacher  and  class-leader — Dis- 
missal from  office — Instances  of  benevolent  disposition — Success  in 
business — He  abandons  politics. 

The  year  1788  opened,  in  some  respects,  auspiciously. 
With  reference  to  his  business,  Mr.  Drew  had  now,  to  use  a 
trite  but  expressive  phrase,  "  broken  the  neck  of  his  difficulties." 
His  incessant  toil  to  achieve  independence  he  was  enabled  to 
relax.  Industry  and  rigid  economy  were  still  indispensable  ; 
but  it  was  no  longer  necessary  that  he  should  "  go  to  bed  sup- 
perless"  to  avoid  "rising  in  debt."  His  ruling  passion,  the 
acquisition  of  knowledge,  he  was,  in  a  limited  degree,  enabled 
to  gratify;  and,  during  tliis  and  several  succeeding  years,  every 
spare  moment,  and  all  the  hours  he  could  snatch  from  sleep, 
were  devoted  to  reading  such  books  as  he  could  procure. 

"  By  unremitting  industry,  I  at  length  surmounted  such  ob- 
stacles as  were  of  a  pecuniary  nature  :  tliis  enabled  me  to  pro- 
cure assistance  in  my  labours,  and  afforded  me  the  common 
relaxation  which  others  enjoyed.  This  was  the  only  leisure 
at  which  I  aimed.  In  this  situation  I  felt  an  internal  vigour 
prompting  me  to  exertion,  but  I  was  unable  to  determine  what 
direction  I  should  take.  The  sciences  lay  before  me.  I  dis- 
covered charms  in  each,  but  was  unable  to  embrace  them  all, 
and  hesitated  in  making  a  selection.    I  had  learned  that 

'  One  science  only  will  one  genius  fit. 
So  vast  is  art,  so  narrow  human  wit.' 

"  At  first  I  felt  such  an  attachment  to  astronomy,  that  I  re- 
solved to  confine  my  views  to  the  study  of  that  science  ;  but  I 
soon  found  myself  too  defective  in  arithmetic  to  make  any  pro- 
ficiency.   Modern  history  was  my  next  object ;  but  I  quickly 


HE   BECOMES  A  LOCAL  PliEACHER. 


69 


discovered  that  more  books  and  time  were  necessary  than  I 
could  either  purchase  or  spare,  and  on  tliis  account  history 
was  abandoned.  In  the  region  of  metaphysics  I  saw  neither 
of  the  above  impediments.  It  neveriheless  appeared  to  be  a 
thorny  path,  but  I  determined  to  enter,  and  accordingly  begaa 
to  tread  it." 

Referring  to  this  period  of  his  life,  in  conversation  with  a 
gentleman  with  whom  he  was  particularly  intimate,  when 
asked  whether  he  had  not  studied  astronomy  in  his  time,  Mr. 
Drew  remarked,  "  I  once  had  a  very  great  desire  for  it,  for  I 
thought  it  suitable  to  the  genius  of  my  mind,  and  I  think  so 
still ;  but  then 

'  Chill  penury  repressed  the  noble  rage. 
And  froze  the  genial  current  of  the  soul.' 

Dangers  and  difficulties  I  did  not  fear,  while  I  could  bring  the 
powers  of  my  mind  to  bear  upon  them,  and  force  myself  a 
passage.  To  metaphysics  I  then  applied  myself,  and  became 
what  the  world  and  my  good  friend  Dr.  Clarke  call  'a  meta- 
physician.' " 

Connected  with  the  origin  of  Mr.  Drew's  metaphysical 
studies,  there  is  another  circumstance  in  the  history  of  1788 
that  demands  attention.  We  have  already  seen  that  his  re- 
ligious convictions  led  him,  in  his  twenty-first  year,  to  join  the 
Methodists.  About  the  commencement  of  his  twenty-fourth 
year,  he  became  a  local  preacher*  and  a  class-leader.  The 
responsible  duty  of  instructing  others  on  the  all-important  sub- 
ject of  religion,  necessarily  led  him  to  exercise  his  thoughts  as 
a  moralist  and  a  divine.  He  could  not  ofiiciate  as  a  public 
teacher  without  becoming  presently  sensible  of  his  own  defi- 
ciency on  many  points  of  necessary  knowledge.  His  was  not 
the  temper  to  sit  quietly  down,  and  felicitate  himself  upon  his 
ignorance  of  "  vain  philosophy."  While  at  his  shop  bench, 
many  glimpses  of  truth  might  attract  a  momentary  attention, 
and  then  pass  away,  like  a  vision,  from  before  his  eyes.  He 
might  have  tlicre  contented  himself  with  a  vague  and  indistinct 
apprehension  of  the  truth  or  falsehood  of  particular  theories  ; 

*  Mr.  Drew's  first  attempt  at  preaching,  before  he  had  received  his 
formal  appointment,  was  at  Tregorrick,  a  village  about  a  mile  from  St. 
Austell.  The  service  was  held  in  a  dwelling-house;  and  the  person  to 
whom  it  belonged  used  to  say,  "  I  like  Sammy  Drew  very  well,  because 
he  always  tells  a  good  story." 


70 


LIFE  OF  SAMrEL  DREW. 


but  in  his  public  character  he  would  find  it  absolutely  neces- 
sary to  tliink  and  exumine  closely.  As  a  private  instructor 
and  adviser  also,  cases  of  conscience  would  sometimes  come 
before  him,  which  he  would  have  to  assist  in  determining.  On 
some  occasions,  the  individuals  mider  his  charge  might,  per- 
haps, be  at  a  loss  how  to  act ;  and  it  would  be  his  duty  to 
furnish  them  with  rules  for  their  guidance.  Every  class-leader 
should  be  a  moral  philosopher,  as  well  as  a  pious  man.  Where 
the  decision  lies  between  duties  that  are  apparently  at  variance, 
the  most  patient  exercise  of  thought  is  necessary  to  determine 
the  riglit  application  of  Scripture  precept.  These  considera- 
tions combine  to  show,  that  the  public  duties  in  which  Mr. 
Drew  was  now  engaged,  tended  to  give  life,  vigour,  and  direc- 
tion to  his  mental  exertions. 

To  preserve  the  unity  of  our  subject,  we  pass  over  an  inter- 
val of  about  twelve  months.  Within  this  period  an  exchange 
of  the  itinerant  preachers  had  taken  place,  and  there  was 
raised  against  Mr.  Drew  the  cry  of  heresy.  He  was  accused 
of  holding  Calvinistic  tenets.  The  truth  of  this  allegation  the 
superintendant  preacher  did  not  deem  it  necessary  to  substan- 
tiate by  examination  or  evidence,  before  he  gave  it  credit.  With- 
out waiting  the  decision  of  the  local  preachers'  meeting,  where 
it  must  be  openly  discussed,  a  short  method  was  adopted,  in 
which  authority  was  substituted  for  reason.  The  proceeding 
we  give  in  Mr.  Drew's  own  words  : — 

"  A  message  was  brouglit  to  my  sliop,  that  Mr.  M.,  the 
preacher,  wanted  to  see  me  at  Mr.  F.'s,*  and  that  I  must  bring 
my  preacher's  plan  and  class-paper  with  me.  I  attended 
accordingly,  and  was  shown  into  the  parlour,  where  Mr.  M. 
and  Mr.  F.  were  sitting.  Mr.  F.,  on  my  entering,  said, '  We've 
sent  for  thee,  Sam,  about  this  business  of  thine  in  preaching 
Calvinism.'  I  replied,  that  I  did  not  exactly  know  what  were 
the  charges  against  me, — that  I  held  no  doctrine  but  what  I 
believed  was  found  in  Scripture,  and  maintained  by  Mr.  Wes- 
ley himself, — and  that,  if  they  would  allow  me,  I  would  en- 
deavour to  prove  it  to  them.  '  No,  no,'  answered  Mr.  F., 
'  we  know  all  about  the  matter,  and  don't  want  any  explana- 
tion of  tliine  ;  for  we  have  already  agreed  that  we'll  have  no 
dispute.'  I  then  said,  'If  you  mean  to  proceed  in  this  sum- 
mary way,  and  will  not  allow  me  a  hearing,  I  have  no  remedy 
but  to  submit.'    At  the  desire  of  Mr.  M.,  the  preacher,  who 

*  An  influential  member  of  the  society. 


HIS  DISMISSAL  FROM  OFFICE. 


71 


did  not  say  much,  I  gave  up  my  class-paper  and  my  plan  ;  and 
then  inquired  whether  they  wished  to  proceed  further,  and  dis- 
allow my  membership.  To  this  they  replied  in  the  negative ; 
and  I  took  my  leave.  Had  they  demanded  my  ticket  of  mem- 
bership, I  should  have  complied  ;  and  should  not,  I  suppose, 
have  been  a  Methodist  at  the  present  time. 

"  When  the  matter  came  to  be  noised  abroad,  it  caused  no 
little  talk  in  our  society,  and  among  the  local  preachers.  Many 
of  them  were  persuaded  that  my  theological  views  were  Scrip- 
tural and  methodistical ;  and  others,  who  were  unable  to  deter- 
mine this  point,  were  indignant  at  the  hasty  and  irregular  pro- 
ceeding of  the  superiniendant,  though  he  was  well  received  as 
a  preacher,  and  esteemed  as  a  Christian.  Mr.  F.'s  assumption 
of  authority,  in  a  matter  which  did  not  come  under  his  cogni- 
zance, was  also  a  ground  of  complaint.  Not  long  afterward, 
Mr.  M.,  finding  that  he  had  exposed  himself  to  much  odium 
on  this  account,  and  perhaps  doubting  whether  I  might  not  be 
in  the  right,  came  to  me  privately,  and  wished  me  to  resume 
my  offices.  I  said  to  him,  '  No  sir,  the  matter  is  quite  public. 
You  have  put  me  out  at  the  door,  and  I  shall  not  come  back 
through  the  key-hole.  Before  I  resume  my  plan,  I  must  be 
publicly  justified.  The  office  of  class-leader,  I  believe,  I  shall 
never  accept  while  I  live  in  St.  Austell.' " 

The  charge  against  Mr.  Drew  was,  that  he  preached  the  im- 
puted righteousness  of  Christ.  How  he  held  the  tenet,  the 
superintendant  did  not  inquire.  No  man  insisted  more  strenu- 
ously than  Mr.  Drew,  that  the  genuineness  of  faith  must  be  at- 
tested by  a  holy  life : — as  superseding  moral  obligation,  in  any 
form ;  he  could  not,  therefore,  have  understood  it.  His  views 
then,  and  always  were,  tliat  the  perfect  obedience  or  right- 
eousness of  the  Saviour  gave  an  infinite  value  to  that  sacrifice 
which,  appropriated  by  living  faith,  forms  the  ground  of  a  sin- 
ner's acceptance  with  his  Maker.  Such,  unquestionably,  were 
the  views  of  Mr.  Wesley ;  in  proof  of  which  Mr.  Drew  some- 
times quoted  those  verses  in  his  collection  of  hymns  : — 

"  Jesus,  thy  Ibood  and  righteousness, 
My  beauty  are,  my  richest  dress  : 
Mid  flaming  worlds,  in  these  arrayed, 
With  joy  shall  I  lift  up  my  head." 

"  Thy  righte'cQsness  wearing,  and  cleansed  by  thy  blood. 
Bold  shall  th»  v  appear  in  the  presence'  of  God." 

Mr.  Drew,  many  years  afterward,  told  a  friend,  that  the 
substance  of  the  affair  was  as  follows  : — "  When  I  began  to 


72 


LIFE  OF  SAMUEL  DREW. 


think,  I  found  that  many  words  and  phrases  common  in  our 
pulpits,  if  not  positively  absurd,  would  not  bear  a  strict  inves- 
tigation ;  I  therefore  discarded  them,  and  used  terms  suited  to 
my  own  ideas.  Some  good  people,  to  whom  these  were  en- 
tirely new,  and  who  never  took  the  trouble  to  consider  them, 
thought  they  must  be  erroneoiis,  because  they  were  not  in 
ordinary  use." 

An  Independent  congregation  had,  a  few  years  previously, 
been  estabiishud  in  St.  Austell.  As  soon  as  it  was  known  that 
Mr.  D.  had  refused  to  resume  his  offices  among  the  Methodists, 
application  was  made  to  him  to  become  either  their  pastor,  or 
their  occasional  minister.  This  proposal  he  declined  ;  alledging 
that,  though  supposed  to  hold  Calvinistic  tenets,  nothing  could 
be  farther  from  his  sentiments  than  some  of  the  doctrines  that 
Calvin  taught. 

At  the  local  preacliers'  meeting  which  followed  his  dismissal, 
the  subject  was  investigated  ;  his  views  were  pronounced  cor- 
rect ;  and,  by  a  unanimous  vote,  he  was  solicited  again  to 
preach.  With  this  request,  seconded  as  it  was  by  the  general 
voice  of  the  people,  he  complied,  and  continued  to  labour 
acceptably  as  a  preacher,  until  within  a  few  weeks  of  his  de- 
cease. Though  he  was  repeatedly  requested  to  resume  the 
charge  of  a  class,  he  did  not  accept  the  office,  until  some  years 
after  his  removal  from  Cornwall.  In  directing  the  affairs  of 
the  society  he  still  assisted  ;  and,  contrary  to  the  usages  of 
Methodism,  was  desired  always  to  attend  the  leaders' meetings, 
and  to  speak  and  vote  as  a  leader.  This  he  coniinued  to  do, 
until,  nearly  thirty  years  afterward,  he  was  reminded  by  a 
siiperintendant  preacher,  from  whose  opinion  on  a  proposed 
measure  he  dissented,  that  he  had  no  right  to  speak  or  be 
present. 

The  circumstance  which  we  have  narrated  was  not  without 
its  effect  in  forming  Mr.  Drew's  character.  Towards  the  prin- 
cipals in  the  business  he  felt  no  resentment ;  believing  their 
intentions  to  be  good,  however  injudicious  tlie  means  they 
adopted.  It  was  a  lessf)n  for  life.  Thenceforward  he  felt  a 
settled  dislike  to  the  exhibition  of  arbitrary  power. 

A  few  domestic  incidents  related  by  his  sister,  place  the 
softer  features  of  his  character  in  a  very  pleasii  g  light. 

One  of  his  maxims  was,  "  Be  just  before  yea  are  generous." 
This,  in  the  year  of  his  commencing  busin  .^ss,  when  he  was 
trading  on  a  borrowed  capital,  and  iiad  eno-  gh  to  do  "to  make 
life  struggle,"  imposed  a  restraint  upon  hi  .  benevolent  disposi- 


TRAITS  or  CHABACTEK. 


73 


lion  which  he  at  one  time  thus  evaded.  Before  he  was  for- 
mally appointed  as  a  local  preacher,  he  officiated,  as  is  com- 
mon among  the  Methodists,  at  meetings  for  prayer  in  the  neigh- 
bouring villages,  and  sometimes  gave  an  exhortation.  After 
attending  a  meeting  of  this  kind,  he  said  to  his  sister,  "  The 
people  at  the  place  where  I  have  been,  very  kindly  invited  rae 
to  dinner :  and  I  may  now  honestly  give  away  my  own. 
Bring  out  what  meat  you  have  left,  cut  from  it  as  much  as  you 

think  I  should  have  eaten,  and  carry  it  to  Alice  H  ,"  a 

very  poor  woman  for  whom  he  had  a  great  respect. 

In  the  following  year,  when  he  was  free  from  the  world  but 
still  poor  enough,  owing  to  some  misunderstanding  with  the 
circuit  stewards,  one  of  the  preachers  then  in  the  circuit  was 
placed  in  very  trying  circumstances,  and  his  amiable  wife  and 
family  wanted  necessaries.  One  market  day,  Mr.  Drew  said 
to  his  sister,  "  I  was  just  now  over  in  the  market,  and  saw 

Mrs.  L  ,  the  preacher's  wife,  with  an  empty  basket  on 

one  arm,  and  a  child  on  the  other,  looking  wistfully  at  the 
butchers'  stalls.  I  guessed,  from  her  manner,  that  she  had  no 
money,  and  was  ashamed  to  ask  credit ;  so,  as  I  passed  her,  I 
put  half-a-crown  in  her  hand.  The  good  woman  was  so 
affected,  that  she  burst  into  tears  ;  and  I  could  not  help  crying 
for  company." 

His  sister  relates,  that,  about  the  same  time,  the  family  of  a 
labouring  man  in  the  town  being  seized  with  fever,  and  suf- 
fering great  privation  in  consequence,  he  desired  her  to  send 
them  what  she  thought  could  be  spared  from  his  cupboard,  but 
on  no  account  to  enter  the  house,  lest  she  should  take  the  infec- 
tion. "  I  ventured,"  she  says,  "  on  this  point  to  disobey ; 
and  going  thither,  in  company  with  a  female  friend,  saw  such  a 
scene  of  distress  as  I  could  scarcely  have  imagined.  They 
had  but  one  room,  and  one  bed.  In  the  bed  were  the  mother 
and  one  child,  ill ;  across  the  foot  lay  a  bigger  boy,  just  recov- 
ering; and  in  a  washing  tray,  beside  the  bed,  was  another — 
dead.  Not  being  parishioners,  they  wpre  left  to  shift  for  them- 
selves, witliout  attendance  (except  what  the  father  could  give 
when  not  at  his  labour) — without  fire — and  almost  without 
food.  Having  informed  my  brother  where  I  had  been,  and 
what  I  saw,  he  said  to  me,  '  Since  you  have  disobeyed  my 
orders  in  going,  you  shall,  as  a  punishment,  go  again,  and 
carry  the  family  every  thing  in  our  house  that  you  think  they 
can  want.  We'll  trust  Providence  for  a  supply.'  My  brother's 
means  being  unequal  to  his  generous  intentions,  he  made  the 
G 


74 


tlFE  OF  BAMUEL  DRE-VT. 


case  known  to  some  of  his  acquaintances,  and  the  family  wai 
relieved. 

"  A  cousin  of  ours,  a  widow,  who  resided  twenty  or  thirty 
miles  from  St.  Austell,  was  much  reduced  in  circumstances 
through  sickness.  She  wrote  to  my  brother,  begging  the  loan 
of  five  pounds  ;  and  stated  as  a  reason,  that,  if  he  could  part 
with  such  a  sum,  it  would  enable  her  to  begin  some  business, 
which  she  mentioned,  and  maintain  her  family.  *  Now,'  said 
he  to  me,  '  what  can  I  do  ?  To  me  five  pounds  is  a  serious 
sum,  and  one  that  I  can  ill  spare  ;  but,  perhaps,  if  I  refuse,  I 
shall  deprive  my  relative  of  the  only  opportunity  she  may  have 
of  providing  for  her  children.  It  will  never  be  in  her  power  to 
repay  me.  I  will  not  lend  her  five  pounds,  but  will  give  her 
the  money.' 

"  My  brother's  sensibilities  were  not  confined  to  his  own 
species.  He  could  not  witness  suffering  in  any  creature  with- 
out seeking  its  relief.  A  poor,  half-starved  dog  one  day  pre- 
sented itself  at  our  door,  as  if  knowing  instinctively  that  it  was 
a  friend's  house.  Seeing  the  dog,  he  desired  me  to  give  it 
some  meat,  which  it  ate  with  a  voracious  appetite.  Where  it 
lodged  at  night  we  could  not  tell ;  but  for  a  long  time  it  came 
just  at  the  same  hour  for  its  daily  dole.  We  had  missed  it 
some  weeks,  when  my  brother,  calling  me  to  the  door,  and 
pointing  at  a  fine,  sleek  animal  that  was  passing  with  a  gentle- 
man, asked  me  if  I  knew  it;  and  on  my  answering  '  No,'  he  said, 
with  a  gesture  of  satisfaction,  '  Thai's  the  very  dog  we  relieved  ; 
and  he  has  found  his  master.'" 

Mr.  Drew  has  been  known,  at  this  period  of  his  life,  when 
in  the  ordinary  way  of  judging,  he  could  badly  afford  it,  fre- 
quently to  give  half-a-guinea,  and  sometimes  a  guinea,  to  a 
family  in  distress.  Though  he  always  examined  before  he 
relieved,  and  often  detected  imposture,  yet  from  a  tale  of  woe 
he  never  turned  away  with  indiff'erence.  His  charily  knew  no 
other  limit  than  his  ability  ;  and  he  has  been  seen  to  weep  when 
he  had  nothing  to  bestow.  These  things  are  not  related  for 
the  purpose  of  eulogy,  but  to  justify  the  opinion  of  his  most 
intimate  friends,  that,  at  this  early  period,  with  the  understanding 
of  a  philosopher  he  possessed  the  heart  of  a  Christian. 

Business  continuing  to  increase,  Mr.  D.  found  his  premises 
too  confined.  A  better  shop  became  vacant,  but  his  prudential 
maxims  made  him  hesitate  to  take  it.  He  looked  at  the  premises, 
and  made  inquiries,  witliout  coming  to  a  decision.  A  very 
intimate  friend  came  one  evening  into  his  house,  and,  not  finding 


HS  RENOTINCES  POLITICS. 


75 


him  at  home,  said  to  his  sister,  "There  has  been  a  person 
inquiring  about  yonder  house : — if  you  brother  wait  till  to- 
morrow, he  may  be  too  late."  Snatching  up  a  shoe,  he  ran 
out,  and  quickly  returned,  saying  that  he  had  secured  the  prem- 
ises for  his  friend.  When  Mr.  D.  learned  what  had  been  done, 
he  expressed  his  fears  that  the  additional  rent  might  embarrass 
him,  and  hinted  something  about  the  possibility  of  imprison- 
ment. Have  no  fears  on  that  account,"  his  friend  replied. 
"  While  Richard  Libby  has  money  in  his  purse,  Samuel  Drew 
•hall  never  go  to  prison  for  the  want  of  it." 

During  the  American  war,  and  long  afterward,  every  one 
was  a  politician.  According  to  his  own  account  of  his  juvenile 
days,  the  subject  of  our  narrative  was  quite  on  the  side  of  the 
Americans  ;  and  it  does  not  appear  that  his  sentiments  on  this 
matter  had  hitherto  undergone  any  alteration.  The  person 
just  named  emigrated  to  America  ;  and  alluding,  in  one  of  his 
letters  to  Mr.  Drew,  to  his  own  suspected  character  of  repub- 
lican, observes,  "  You  were  as  deep  in  the  mud  as  I  in  the 
mire."  There  was  a  danger,  at  the  time  of  which  we  now 
write,  about  the  year  1789  or  1790,  of  political  discussion 
occupying  Mr.  Drew's  attention,  to  the  exclusion  or  detriment 
of  his  more  important  mental  occupations.  From  this  hazard 
he  was  preserved,  by  an  incident  which  he  has  often  related. 

A  friend  one  day  remarked  to  him,  "  Mr.  Drew,  more  than 
once  I  have  heard  you  quote  that  expression, — 

•  Where  ignorance  is  bliss,  'tis  folly  to  be  wise.' 

You  quote  it  as  being  true ;  but  how  are  we  to  understand 
it  ?" — "  I  can  give  you,"  replied  Mr.  D.,  "  an  instance  from  my 
own  experience.  When  I  began  business  I  was  a  great  politi- 
cian. My  master's  shop  had  been  a  chosen  place  for  political 
discussion ;  and  there,  I  suppose,  I  acquired  my  fondness  for 
«uch  debates.  For  the  first  year  I  had  too  much  to  do  and  to 
think  about,  to  indulge  ^my  propensity  for  politics ;  but  after 
getting  a  little  ahead  in  the  world,  I  began  to  dip  into  these 
matters  again.  Very  soon,  I  entered  as  deeply  into  newspaper 
argument  as  if  my  livelihood  depended  on  it ;  my  shop  was 
often  filled  with  loungers,  who  came  to  canvass  public  meas- 
ures; and  now  and  then  I  went  into  my  neighbours'  houses 
on  a  similar  errand.  This  encroached  on  my  time  ;  and  I 
found  it  necessary  sometimes  to  work  till  midnight,  to  make 
up  for  the  hours  I  lost.  One  night,  after  my  shutters  were 
closed,  and  I  was  busily  employed,  some  little  urchin  who  was 


78 


LIFE  OF  SAMUEL  DREW. 


passing  the  street  put  his  mouth  to  the  key-hole  of  the  door 
and,  with  a  shrill  pipe,  called  out,  'Shoemaker!  shoemaker! 
work  by  night,  and  run  about  by  day  1' " — "  And  did  you,"  in- 
quired the  friend,  "  pursue  the  boy  with  j'our  stirrup,  to  chas- 
tise him  for  his  insolence?" — "  No,  no,"  replied  Mr.  Drew. 
"  Had  a  pistol  been  fired  ofl"  at  my  ear,  I  could  not  have  been 
more  dismayed  or  confounded.  I  dropped  my  work,  saying  to 
myself,  '  True,  true  !  but  you  shall  never  have  that  to  say  of 
me  again  !'  I  have  never  forgotten  it ;  and  while  I  recollect  any 
thing  I  never  shall.  To  me  it  was  as  the  voice  of  God,  and 
it  has  been  a  word  in  season  throughout  my  life.  I  learned 
from  it,  not  to  leave  till  to-morrow  the  work  of  to-day,  or  to  idle 
when  I  ought  to  be  working.  From  that  time,  I  turned  over  a 
new  leaf.  I  ceased  to  venture  on  the  restless  sea  of  politics,  or 
trouble  myself  about  matters  which  did  not  concern  me.  The 
bliss  of  ignorance  on  political  topics  I  often  experienced  in 
after  life ; — the  folly  of  being  wise  my  early  history  shows." 

In  the  lives  of  good  men,  indications  of  an  overruling  Provi- 
dence are  frequently  discovei-able.  The  foregoing  incident,  we 
think,  may  be  classed  among  them.  That  it  gave  a  colouring 
to  Mr.  Drew's  habits,  and  tended  to  the  formation  of  his  char- 
acter, he  expressly  asserts.  Its  effects  may  be  perceived  in  his 
future  history.  Frequently  has  he  quoted,  as  expressive  of  his 
own  sentiments,  that  beautiful  apostrophe  of  Cowper, 

"  Happy  the  man,  who  sees  a  God  employed 
In  ali  the  good  and  ill  that  checker  life ; 
Resolving  all  events,  with  their  cflects 
And  manifold  results,  into  the  will 
And  arbitration  wise  of  the  Supreme  !'' 

Though  all  the  circumstances  of  life  are  uuder  the  Divine 
direction,  and,  therefore,  equally  providential ;  yet  there  are  some 
occurrences  in  which  this  direction  is  especially  apparent.  The 
prospective  influence  of  events  is  beyond  our  knowledge  :  we 
can  judge  of  them  only  by  comparison  with  the  past.  Whether 
we  stand  by  the  fountain  of  life,  or  view  its  stream  flowing 
onward  through  an  undiscovered  region  towards  the  ocean  of 
eternity,  the  circumstances  which  may  determine  its  course 
and  its  magnitude  are  to  us  unknown ;  but,  in  passing  from  its 
estuary  to  its  source,  we  perceive  the  localities  which  gave  di- 
rection to  its  current,  and  the  tributaries  which  augmented  the 
volume  of  its  waters. 


TRAITS  or  CHARACTER. 


77 


SECTION  X. 

Traits  of  character — Mr.  Drew's  method  of  instructing  his  workmen,  &c. 
— His  marriage — He  purposes  emigrating  to  America. 

Having  happily  disentangled  himself  from  the  meshes  of  po- 
litical debate,  Mr.  Drew  was  enabled,  with  less  interruption, 
to  indulge  his  taste  for  literature  and  metaphysics.  As  h« 
could  devote  but  little  time  to  the  acquisition  of  knowledge, 
every  moment  was  fully  occupied.  "  Drive  thy  business — do 
not  let  thy  business  drive  thee,"  was  one  of  those  maxims  of 
Dr.  Franklin  to  which  Mr.  D.  adhered  ;  and  his  example 
shows  that  literature  may  be  cultivated,  and  piety  pursued, 
without  prejudice  to  our  worldly  interests. 

"  During  several  years,"  he  observes,  "  all  my  leisure  hours 
were  devoted  to  reading,  or  scribbling  any  thing  which  hap- 
pened to  pass  my  mind  ;  but  I  do  not  recollect  that  it  ever  in- 
terrupted my  business,  though  it  frequently  broke  in  upon  my 
rest.  On  my  labour  depended  my  livelihood — literary  pursuits 
were  only  my  amusement.  Common  prudence  had  taught  me 
the  lesson  which  Marmonlel  has  so  happily  expressed :  '  Se- 
cure to  yourself  a  livelihood  independently  of  literary  success, 
and  put  into  this  lottery  only  the  overplus  of  time.  Wo  to 
him  who  depends  wholly  on  his  pen  !  Nothing  is  more  casual. 
The  man  who  makes  shoes  is  sure  of  his  wages — the  man  who 
writes  a  book  is  never  sure  of  any  thing.'" 

To  a  person  of  Mr.  Drew's  sensibility  poetry  would  present 
many  charms.  The  poetical  works  of  Milton,  Young,  and 
Cowper,  he  read  with  avidity  ;  and  Pope's  Ethic  Epistles, 
against  which  much  needless  outcry  has  been  raised,  were,  early 
and  late  in  life,  his  favourites.  Goldsmith  was  another  of  his 
admired  writers,  botli  in  poetry  and  prose.  The  whole  of  the 
"  Deserted  Village"  was  committed  to  memory,  and  some  of 
those  traits  in  its  delightful  picture  of  the  village  pastor,  he  per- 
haps felt  to  be  not  inapplicable  to  himself.    At  this  period 

"  His  house  was  known  to  all  the  ragrant  train." 

"  It  was,  says  his  sister  "  a  sort  of  asylum  for  foreigners.  To 
the  itinerant  trader  and  the  wandering  musician  my  brother's 
G  2 


7S 


UTE   OF  SAMUEL  DREW. 


doors  were  always  open.  He  delighted  to  converse  with  them, 
to  learn  their  history,  and  to  gather  from  them  such  informatiou 
as  they  could  furnish  about  their  respective  countries.  If  ia- 
telligent  and  well-behaved,  ihey  were  generally  invited  to  sit 
at  our  table,  and  partake  of  our  fare  ;  and  frequently  has  the 
Jew  or  the  Italian  left  his  box  of  valuables  at  our  house  as  a 
place  of  safety." 

Though  but  a  young  tradesman,  his  punctuality  and  integrity 
procured  him  general  respect ;  much  deference  was  paid  to  his 
judgment ;  and  he  was  frequently  chosen  by  his  neighbours 
an  arbitrator  in  their  petty  quarrels.  In  this  office,  his  strict 
hdnesty  did  not  always  accord  with  the  views  of  the  disputants. 
Any  thing  which  had  the  appearance  of  meanness  or  duplicity 
he  detested.  "  Now  let  me  know  the  truth,"  he  would  say, — 
"  the  whole  truth.  No  matter  Vvhat  it  is  ;  only  let  there  be  no 
shuffling  or  prevarication.  Be  open  and  candid — tell  plainly 
what  you  mean — unless  you  do,  I  will  not  even  try  to  under- 
stand you." 

A  person  with  whom  he  had  been  very  friendly,  became  em- 
barrassed in  his  circumstances,  and  applied  to  him  for  advice. 
After  making  various  searching  inquiries,  he  gave  some  direc- 
tions which  were  too  straightforward  to  suit  the  applicant,  who 
hesitated,  and  seemed  confused ;  Mr.  Drew  then  said,  "  I  un- 
derstand you  now.  In  plain  terms,  you  want  me  to  advise  you 
how  to  cheat  your  creditors.  If  that  be  the  case,  I  have  done 
M'ith  you,  and  you  may  leave  my  house." 

Though  thus  inflexible,  where  truth  and  honesty  were  con- 
cerned, he  symj)athized  with  even  the  imaginary  sorrows  of 
those  who  wished  his  advice  or  assistance,  and  was  frequently 
at  considerable  pains  to  mediate  between  contending  parties. 
He  belonged  to  a  benefit  society  ;  and  it  used  to  be  remarked 
by  the  members,  that  when  Mr.  Drew  attended  a  meeting,  it 
was  always  orderly,  and  the  business  soon  despatched. 

For  the  purpose  of  widening  the  road,  a  small  portion  of  the 
church-yard  at  St.  Austell  (the  surface  of  which  stands  several 
feet  above  the  level  of  the  street)  was  removed,  and  a  new 
burial  ground  consecrated.  A  poor  woman  came  one  day  into 
Mr.  Drew's  shop,  bitterly  crying,  and  apparently  in  great 
agony  of  mind.  He  inquired  the  cause.  She  said,  "  I  had  a 
child  buried  in  tlie  church-yard  ; — they  have  carried  it  away  ; — 
and  oh  !  sir,  I  have  been  told  that  if  we  do  not  lie  in  the  same 
ground,  we  shall  not  rise  together  at  the  last  day."  He  did 
not  ridicule  her  apprehensions,  but  endeavoured  to  show  her 


ANECDOTE  OF  HIS  WORKMAN. 


79 


that  they  were  groundless.  In  this  he  at  length  succeeded, 
and  the  poor  creature  went  away  soothed  and  satisfied." 

We  give  another  instance  out  of  many,  of  his  kind  disposi- 
tion. A  parish  apprentice  was  assigned  to  him,  contrary  to  his 
wishes.  Having  appealed  unsuccessfully  against  the  order,  he 
said,  "  Since  I  must  have  the  boy,  I  will  do  as  well  for  him  as 
i  can.  He  shall  be  treated  as  my  other  apprentices  ;  and,  if 
he  live  to  the  expiration  of  his  time,  it  shall  be  his  own  fault  if 
he  do  not  enter  the  world  in  much  better  circumstances  than  I 
did."  The  boy  became  one  of  the  best  workmen  in  St.  Aus- 
tell, and  always  loved  and  respected  his  master.* 

Mr.  Drew  never  inflicted  immediate  punishment  on  his  ap- 
prentices, however  culpable  their  conduct.  One  of  them  hav- 
ing acted  very  improperly  on  a  Sunday,  when  his  master  was 
absent,  he  was  informed,  on  his  return,  of  the  boy's  guilt,  and 
expressed  his  intention  to  chastise  him  the  next  morning.  In 
the  morning,  his  sister,  supposing  that  he  had  forgotten  his  en- 
gagement, reminded  him  of  it.  "  No,"  he  replied,  "  I  have 
not  forgotten  it ;  but  if  I  had,  your  tenderness,  my  sister,  should 
have  suffered  it  to  pass  unnoticed ;  and  I  do  not  thank  you  for 
reminding  me.  However,  let  the  boy  have  his  breakfast  before 
I  correct  him,  or  he  will  perhaps  eat  none." 

Mr.  Drew's  shop  was  often  visited  by  persons  who  were 
partial  to  religious  or  literary  inquiries.  Among  his  workmen 
and  apprentices  also,  useful  conversation  and  innocent  mirth 
were  encouraged ;  but  the  smallest  infringement  on  delicacy 
was  checked,  whether  in  workman  or  visiter.  Whatever  might 
put  modesty  to  the  blush  instantly  roused  his  indignation.  Phi- 
losophical discussion,  with  him,  had  now  taken  the  place  of 
political  debate.  When  the  conversation  was  between  Mr. 
Drew  and  his  visiters,  the  men  and  boys  acquired  information 
by  listening  ;  and  when  the  visiters  were  gone,  he  would  fre- 
quently ask  them  questions  relative  to  the  point  discussed,  and 
endeavour  to  explain  them  to  their  capacities. 

After  a  lecture  of  this  kind,  when  Locke  on  the  Human  Un- 
derstanding had  been  the  text-book,  and  the  particular  subject, 
the  primary  and  secondary  qualities  of  matter,  one  of  the  work- 
men, full  of  the  importance  of  newly  acquired  knowledge,  and 
longing  for  an  opportunity  to  propagate  an  astounding  doctrine, 
posted  to  the  public  bakehouse,  as  the  most  likely  place  to  find 
an  audience.    Unhappily  for  his  fame  as  a  philosopher,  he  had 

*  Among  Mr.  Drew's  letters,  are  several  from  persons  who  had  been 
his  apprentices.    Nearly  all  of  them  begin  with,  "  My  dear  old  masUr.'^ 


80 


LIFE  OF  SABIUEL  DREW. 


either  misapprehended  or  forgotten  the  proposition,  that  heat  is 
not  a  quality  of  fire,  but  a  sensation  or  effect  produced  by  it ; 
and,  pointing  to  the  blazing  fagots,  boldly  maintained  that 
there  was  no  fire  in  the  oven.  7'his  was  too  heavy  a  demand 
on  the  faith  or  even  patience  of  the  listeners.  The  point  was 
stoutly  maintained  by  him  for  some  time  ;  when  his  female 
audience  proposed  to  adopt  that  most  convincing  mode  of  rea- 
soning, the  argumcntum  ad  hominem.  If  there  were  no  fire 
in  the  oven  a  short  lodgment  there  could  do  him  no  harm  ;  and 
such  an  experiment  would  afford  the  most  satisfactory  evidence 
to  both  parties.  The  man's  zeal  for  science  cooled  down,  and 
he  evinced  a  disposition  to  retreat — a  movement  which  was 
resisted  by  his  common-sense  listeners.  They  laid  hold  of 
him,  with  the  apparent  intention  of  putting  him  in  the  oven  ; 
when,  with  the  desperate  energy  of  terror,  he  broke  from  them, 
and  made  his  way  back  to  the  shop,  perfectly  cured  of  his  phi- 
losophical knight-errantry. 

Having  in  his  sister  so  competent  a  housekeeper,  and  one 
who  identified  herself  so  completely  with  his  interests,  no  dis- 
position had  been  evinced  by  Mr.  Drew  to  change  his  situation 
as  a  bachelor.  He  was  constantly  employed,  and  had  not  felt 
the  want  of  other  society  than  that  of  his  books,  his  sister,  and 
his  friends.  Yet,  having  acquired  some  celebrity  in  the  neigh- 
bourhood, it  appears  that  though  he  had  not  thought  on  matri- 
mony, others  had  thought  for  him ;  as  the  following  anecdote 
proves. 

One  market-day  a  counir3--woman  entered  his  shop,  and 
having  completed  her  purchases,  remarked,  that  she  thought 
he  would  be  much  more  comfortable  if  he  had  a  wife.  This 
he  admitted  ;  adding,  jocosely,  "  I  know  no  one  who  will 
have  me."  She  replied,  that  she  could  very  soon  supply  him, 
and  went  away.  Next  week,  to  his  great  surprise,  she  came 
again  into  the  shop,  with  a  young  female,  and  said,  "  1  have 
brouglit  my  daughter,  sir,  for  you  to  see  if  you'd  like  her." 
Mr.  Drew  disclaimed  all  intention  of  getting  married  for  the 
present,  and  added,  that  he  knew  nothing  of  the  young  woman 
or  her  family  ;  on  which  the  girl,  thinking  it  incumbent  on  her 
to  speak,  said,  "  O,  sir,  but  the  trial  of  the  pudding  is  in  the 
eating."  He,  however,  declined  the  proposed  honour,  assert- 
ing that  he  would  much  rather  have  the  privilege  of  choosing 
for  himself  in  such  a  matter.  After  some  hesitation  they  went 
away,  apparently  much  disappointed. 

Whether  this  incident  led  Mr.  Drew  to  place  himself  in  a 
new  relationship  is  uncertain.    It  perhaps  forced  the  subject 


LNTENDED  EMIGRATION. 


81 


upon  his  consideration,  and  induced  him  to  seek  a  wife.  On 
the  17th  of  April,  1791,  when  in  his  twenty-seventh  year,  he 
married  Honour,  eldest  daughter  of  Jacob,  and  grand-daughter 
of  Thomas  Halls,  a  member  of  the  first  Methodist  society 
of  St.  Austell.  In  her  he  found  a  suitable  helpmate — one 
ready  to  second  all  his  exertions — and  an  efficient  substitute 
for  his  sister's  domestic  management.  Their  family  con- 
sisted of  four  sons  and  three  daughters.  The  second  child, 
a  daughter,  died  when  about  seven  years  of  age :  the  other 
children  have  outlived  their  parents,  and  were  all  married  be- 
fore Mr.  Drew's  decease.  His  wife's  immediate  fortune  was 
ten  pounds — a  sum  of  great  importance  at  that  lime  to  him. 
Three  years  afterward  it  was  increased  by  a  legacy  of  fifiy 
pounds,  which  enabled  him  advantageously  to  extend  his  busi- 
ness. He  was  now  the  respectable,  intelligent  tradesman. 
Authorship  was  far  from  his  thoughts ;  yet  he  was  known  to 
his  neighbours  as  a  reading,  thinking  man,  capable  of  talking 
upon  most  ordinary  subjects  ;  and  he  had  attained  a  degree  of 
local  popularity  as  a  preacher. 

Soon  after  his  marriage  several  of  his  acquaintances  emi- 
grated to  America.  The  reports  which  they  sent  home  were 
in  general  very  flattering  ;  and  many  individuals  and  families  in 
and  about  St.  Austell  were  induced,  in  consequence,  to  seek 
their  fortunes  in  the  New  World.  The  political  and  religious 
freedom  of  the  Americans  had  long  been  an  object  of  Mr. 
Drew's  admiration.  His  old  attachments  and  prepossessions 
were  now  revived  by  the  letters  and  invitations  of  his  friends  : 
and  he  appears  to  have  felt  a  strong  desire  to  follow  the  tide  of 
emigration.  He  was,  however,  too  prudent  hastily  to  exchange 
a  certainty  for  an  uncertainty.  To  act  to-day  and  think  to- 
morrow was  not  his  practice  ;  and  having  a  business  which 
afforded  him  a  maintenance  at  home,  he  resolved,  before  he 
abandoned  it,  to  assure  himself,  by  minute  inquiries,  of  the 
propriety  of  such  a  step.  To  a  friend  in  Alexandria,  Virginia, 
he  wrote  for  information,  in  the  year  1793  ;  but  fearing  to  rely 
entirely  on  the  opinion  of  one  who  had  not  been  long  a  resi- 
dent, and  who  might  be  induced  to  exhibit  the  favourable  side 
of  the  picture  that  he  might  draw  his  old  acquaintances  about 
him,  by  the  same  conveyance  he  addressed  a  formal  letter  of 
inquiry  to  the  official  members  of  the  Methodist  society  in 
that  place.  Their  reply  was  quite  as  favourable  to  emigration 
as  the  statements  of  his  friend. 

Mr.  Richard  Mabyn,  of  Camelford,  the  early  and  constant 


82 


LIFE  OF  SAMVEL  DREW. 


friend  of  Dr.  Clarke,  felt  at  this  time,  like  Mr.  Drew,  an  inclina- 
tion to  exchange  Cornwall  for  the  United  States.  Through 
his  business  as  a  leather-dresser,  he  had  become  very  intimate 
with  Mr.  D.,  with  whom  he  purposed  entering  into  a  partner- 
ship in  the  New  World.  Mr.  Mabyn's  apprehension  of  cap- 
ture, and  a  French  prison,  and  his  consequent  reluctance  tlien 
to  embark,  led  Mr.  Drew  to  defer,  but  not  to  abandon  his  design. 
Within  two  years  it  was  revived  ;  and  he  came  to  the  resolu- 
tion of  taking  not  only  his  family,  but  his  father;  and  this  in- 
tention was  not  entirely  abandoned  until  several  years  after- 
ward. Its  final  relinquishment  is  intimated  by  one  of  his 
transatlantic  correspondents,  who  says,  in  a  letter,  dated  in 
1802,  "I  find  by  your  last,  that  you  have  given  over  all 
thoughts  of  coming  to  America,  and  I  do  not  greatly  wonder  at 
it ;  for  a  tiling  of  this  kind  must  be  done  without  very  nmch 
thinking,  or  not  at  all." 

In  conversation  with  his  children,  at  a  later  period,  when 
Mr.  Drew  spoke  of  being  at  one  time  on  the  verge  of  taking 
up  his  residence  in  America,  and  even  engaged  in  making  dis- 
tant preparations  for  the  voyage  ;  he  was  asked  what  induced 
him,  after  this,  contrary  to  his  usual  decision  of  character,  to 
vacillate.  "  You  may,"  he  replied,  "  call  it  weakness  or  super- 
stition ;  but  1  have  ever  regarded  it  as  among  those  junctures 
of  my  life,  in  which  the  finger  of  Providence  turned  the  scale 
by  an  almost  imperceptible  touch.  Goldsmith  was  one  of  my 
favourite  poets  ;  I  had  read  his  beautiful  ballad  of  Edwin  and 
Angelina  before,  and  admired  it ;  but  happening,  just  at  this 
crisis,  to  find  it  in  some  magazine,  I  read  it  again  ;  and  these 
two  lines, 

'  Man  wants  but  little  here  below. 
Nor  wants  that  little  long,' 

aeconded  by  my  wife's  disinclination  for  the  adventure,  pro- 
duced sucli  an  effect  upon  my  mind  as  led  me  to  abandon  all 
intention  of  crossing  the  Atlantic.  To  these  two  lines  of  Gold- 
smith, under  a  Providential  direction,  it  is  owing,  that  I  and  my 
family  are  now  inhabitants  of  Great  Britain.  The  thought  of 
going  to  America  did,  indeed,  occur  to  me  some  years  after- 
ward, in  consequence  of  local  distress  and  stagnation  of  busi- 
ness. By  tfiis  time,  however,  I  had  lived  longer  in  the  world, 
and  had  read  and  seen  enough  to  convince  me  that  America 
was  no  Utopia.  There  were  certainly,  according  to  my  views, 
political  imperfections  at  home ;  yet  imperfection,  I  was  con- 


BIS  XABLT  COMPOSITION!. 


83 


vinced,  would  attach  to  every  form  of  government ;  and  I  could 
not  but  appropriate  Cowper's  exclamation, 

'  England,  with  all  thy  faults,  I  love  thee  still !' 

To  this  were  added  other  considerations  of  a  personal  nature. 
Though  I  could  not  expect  to  accumulate  wealth  where  I  was, 
I  could  maintain  my  family  in  credit  ;  and  a  removal  to  Amer- 
ica could  not  be  effected  without  exposing  my  wife  and  chil- 
dren to  the  perils  of  the  ocean.  I  therefore  concluded,  with 
Collins,  that 

'  The  lily  peace  outshines  the  silver  store, 
And  life  is  dearer  than  the  golden  ore.' " 


SECTION  XI. 

hlr.  Drew's  first  literary  compositions — His  mode  of  study — Occasion  of 
his  becoming  an  author — Remarks  on  Paine's  "Age  of  Reason"  pub- 

l  lished — First  acquaintance  with  the  Rev.  John  Whitaker — Favourable 
reception  of  his  remarks — Elegy  on  the  death  of  Mr.  Patterson. 

The  order  of  time  having  been  anticipated,  for  the  purpose 

of  throwing  together  those  points  in  Mr.  Drew's  history  which 
stand  in  immediate  relationship,  we  shall  be  enabled  to  trace, 
with  fewer  interruptions,  his  literary  progress. 

His  first  attempts  at  composition,  like  those  of  most  young 
essayists  in  the  paths  of  literature,  were  metrical.  According 
to  his  sister's  recollections,  the  earliest  effort  of  his  muse  was 
a  poetical  epistle  to  her,  and  the  next,  an  elegy  on  the  death  of 
his  brother.  Then  followed  several  short  poetical  pieces,  to 
one  of  which  he  appears  to  havs  attached  some  value,  having 
expressed  much  regret  at  losing  it.  His  next  attempt  was  to 
imbody  poetical  conceptions  in  language  not  metrically  ar- 
ranged. This  piece  was  of  considerable  length,  and  was  en- 
titled by  him  "  A  Morning  Excursion."  It  recorded  in  glowing 
words,  as  his  sister  states,  the  feelings  of  a  mind  alive  to  the 
beauties  of  nature,  grateful  for  the  bounties  of  Providence,  and 
imbued  with  the  spirit  of  piety.  None  of  the  foregoing  pieces 
have  been  preserved,  nor  is  their  date  determinable  beyon^ 
this,  that  they  were  written  during  the  time  of  his  residence  in 
St.  Austell,  and  before  his  marriage. 

The  earliest  production  of  Mr.  Drew's  pen  that  has  been 


84 


LIFE  OF  SAMTIEL  DREW. 


preserved  is  a  metrical  piece,  containing  about  twelve  hundred 
lines,  entitled,  "  Reflections  on  St.  Austell  Churchyard,"  from 
which  a  short  quotation  was  inserted  in  the  third  section  of  our 
narrative.  The  MS  is  dated  August  17,  1792,  and  from  its 
erasures  and  emendations,  appears  to  be  the  original  composi*- 
tion.  It  is  written  in  the  heroic  stanza,  and  has  many  excel- 
lent couplets  ;  but,  as  a  whole,  is  too  defective  in  grammar  and 
versification  to  endure  the  lest  of  criticism.  From  a  short  pre- 
face, which  we  insert  as  a  curiosity,  it  is  evident  that  the 
author  once  contemplated  the  publication  of  this  piece,  though 
on  furllier  consideration  he  judged  it  inexpedient. 

"  When  I  consider  myself — my  subject — my  circumstances 
— my  situation — and  my  neighbours,  I  cannot  think  this  apology 
unnecessary.  When  this  appears  in  a  pubhc  manner,  I  expect 
some  will  despise — some  ridicule — some  pity — and  some,  per- 
haps, applaud  me  for  my  undertaking.  To  please  every  one  is 
impossible.  One  objection  will  be  (I  expect)  continually 
raised — which  is — you  had  better  mind  your  work.  It  may 
not  be  unnecessary  in  reply  to  observe — it  had  but  little  inter- 
ference with  my  labour :  nothing  to  its  detriment :  but  has 
been  chiefly  the  produce  of  those  evening  and  leisure  hours, 
which  too  many  of  my  age  dedicate  to  profligacy,  wicked 
company,  and  vice." 

What  gives  the  chief  interest  and  importance  to  this  poetical 
composition  is,  its  being,  apparently,  the  embryo  of  Mr.  Drew's 
applauded  treatise  on  the  Human  Soul.  The  major  part  is 
argumentative — not  unlike  Pope's  Essay  on  Man,  upon  which, 
possibly,  it  was  modelled  :  and  several  of  the  arguments  tend 
to  prove  that  the  soul  is  immaterial,  and  therefore  immortal. 
Such  is  the  purport  of  the  following  lines : — 

"  What  is  the  soul  1  and  where  does  it  reside  ? 
What  gives  it  life — or  makes  that  life  subside? 
Are  souls  extinct  when  bodies  first  expire? 
Can  death's  cold  lumil  extinguisli  heavenly  fire? 
First,  what  is  life  ? — Define  the  human  soul — 
That  vital  spark  that  animates  the  whole. 


To  form  the  soul  do  subtle  parts  conspire  ? 
Does  action  live  through  every  part  entire  ? 
Consists  the  soul  of  elemental  flame  ? 
Cm  high-wrought  matter  its  existence  claim  ? 


Now,  if  the  soul  be  matter  thus  refin'd, 

If  it  has  parts  connected  or  disjoin'd, 

Then  follows — what  these  propositions  teach — 

That  some  corporeal  instrument  may  reach, 


HIS  EARLY  COMPOSITIONS. 


85 


And  reaching  there,  its  ruin  may  portend  ; 
Its  death  accomplish,  and  its  being  end. 

This  is  no  soul — for  matter  cannot  think  ; 

And  thought  destroy'd  would  make  the  soul  extinct;— 

Since  what  has  parts  must  be  dissolved  again. 

And  in  its  pristine  elements  remain." 

Although,  as  Mr.  Drew  informs  his  readers,  he  laid  the 
foundation  of  his  Essay  on  the  Soul  in  1798,  it  is  obvious,  from 
the  preceding  quotations,  and  from  other  circumstances,  that 
his  thoughts  must  have  been  directed  to  this  subject  at  a  much 
earlier  period.  His  sister  says,  that  while  slie  lived  with  hiin 
— long  before  his  marriage, — he  had  heard  of  Plato  on  the  Soul^ 
and  was  very  desirous  lo  procure  it.  Her  words  are ; — ",I 
never  sa«'  my  brotlier  manifest  more  anxiety  about  any  thing 
than  how  to  obtain  that  book.  After  some  time  had  elapsed, 
he  came  to  me  one  day,  rejoicing  that  he  had  found  the  treasure. 
A  person  in  the  market-place  having  it  among  other  old  books 
for  sale,  he  purchased  it ;  but  he  told  me  afterward,  that  he 
was  greatly  disappointed  in  it."  This  accords  with  an  anec- 
dote which  is  related  of  him.  In  his  anxiety  to  possess  '  Plato,' 
he  made  inquiries  for  it  at  a  bookseller's  shop  in  Truro,  with- 
out success.  He  was  never  remarkable  for  bestowing  atten- 
tion upon  his  outward  man ;  and  at  this  time,  very  probably, 
his  attire  corresponded  with  his  limited  finances.  There  was 
a  singular  incongruity  between  his  unclassical  appearance  and 
the  book  for  which  he  inquired.  This  attracted  the  notice  of 
some  military  officers  who  were  lounging  in  the  shop.    One  of 

ihem,  thinking  him  a  fair  subject  for  a  joke,  said,  "  Mr.  has 

not  got  Plato,  my  man  ;  but  here  (presenting  him  with  a  child's 
primer)  is  a  book  he  thinks  likely  to  be  more  serviceable  to 
to  you  ;  and,  as  you  do  not  seem  to  be  overstocked  with  cash, 
I'll  make  you  a  present  of  it."  Mr.  Drew  thanked  him  for  his 
professed  kindness,  and  added  some  remark,  not  now  remem- 
bered, which  caused  the  military  gentlemen  to  retreat  with 
precipitation  and  shame. 

In  allusion  to  the  year  1798,  he  observes,  "  I  had  long  be- 
fore this  imagined  that  the  immortaliiy  of  the  soul  admitted  of 
more  rational  proof  than  any  I  had  ever  seen.  I  perused  such 
books  as  I  could  obtain  on  the  subject ;  but  disappointment 
was  the  common  resiUt.  I  therefore  made  notes  of  such 
thoughts  as  occurred,  merely  for  my  own  satisfaction,  without 
any  design  of  publishing  them  to  the  world." 

From  the  year  1792,  when  the  poem  just  noticed  was  writ- 
H 


86 


LIFE  OF  SAMUEL  DREW. 


ten,  until  the  commencement  of  his  Essay  on  the  Soul,  no 
particular  circumstance  of  his  literary  life  is  on  record. 

During  the  former  part  of  this  period,  he  was  intimate  with 
several  young  men  of  good  information  and  inquiring  minds, 
who  regarded  him  as  their  preceptor.  One  of  them,  who  was 
Mr.  Drew's  junior,  in  referring  to  this  period,  says,  "Regularly 
as  the  clock  proclaimed  the  hour  of  leaving  work,  I  ran  to  his 
house,  for  the  purpose  of  reading  and  talking  with  him.  We 
read  and  rocked  tiie  cradle  by  turns.  I  can  see  him  now,  in 
imagination,  standing  and  leaning  on  the  back  of  a  chair,  as 
he  was  then  accustomed  to  do.  when  in  earnest  conversation. 
I  was  a  correspondent  of  the  Weekly  Entertainer,  and  lie  was 
my  counsellor  both  as  to  matter  and  mamier;  but  I  believe  he 
never  wrote  for  that  publication  iiimself." 

Mr.  Drew's  own  description  of  his  mode  of  study,  at  this 
period  of  his  life,  is  as  follov/s  : — 

"  During  my  literary  pursuits,  I  regularly  and  constantly 
attended  on  my  business,  and  do  not  recollect  that  one  cus- 
tomer was  ever  disappointed  by  me  through  these  means.  My 
mode  of  writing  and  study  may  have  in  them,  perhaps,  some- 
thing peculiar.  Immersed  in  the  common  concerns  of  life,  I 
endeavour  to  lift  my  thoughts  to  objects  more  sublime  than 
those  with  vvhicdi  I  am  surrounded  ;  and,  while  attending  to  my 
trade,  I  sometimes  caich  the  fibres  of  an  argument,  which  I 
endeavour  to  note,  and  keep  a  pen  and  ink  by  me  for  that  pur- 
pose. In  this  state,  what  I  can  collect  through  tlie  day  re- 
mains on  any  paper  which  I  have  at  hand,  till  the  business  of 
the  day  is  despatched,  and  my  shop  shut,  when  in  the  midst  of 
my  family,  I  endeavour  to  analyze,  in  the  evening,  such  thoughts 
as  had  crossed  my  mind  during  the  day.  I  have  no  study — I 
have  no  retirement— I  write  amid  the  cries  and  cradles  of  my 
children — and  frequently,  when  I  review  what  I  have  written, 
endeavour  to  cultivate  'the  art  loblot.'  Such  are  the  methods 
which  I  have  pursued,  and  such  the  disadvantages  under  which 
I  wri;e." 

His  usual  seat,  after  closing  the  business  of  the  day,  was  a 
low  Bursing-chair  beside  the  kitchen  fire.  Here,  with  the  bel- 
lows on  his  knees  for  a  desk,  and  the  usual  culinary  and  do- 
mestic matters  in  progress  around  him,  his  works,  prior  to 
1805,  were  chiefly  written.  The  circumstances  which  led  to 
his  becoming  an  author  he  has  thus  recorded  :— 

"  A  young  gentleman,  by  profession  a  surgeon,  had,  for  a 
consideral)le  time,  been  in  habits  of  intimacy  with  me  ;  and  our 
conversation  frequently  turned  on  abstract  theories,  the  nature 


OCCASION  OF   niS  AVTHORSniP. 


87 


of  evidence  under  given  circumstances,  and  the  primary  source 
of  moral  principles.  He  liad  made  himself  acquainted  with 
the  writings  of  Voltaire,  Rousseau,  Gibbon,  and  Hume,  whose 
speculations  had  led  him  to  look  with  a  suspicious  eye  on  the 
Sacred  Records,  to  which  he  well  knew  I  was  strongly  attached. 
When  Paine's  '  Age  of  Reason'  made  its  appearance,  he  pro- 
cured it ;  and,  fortifying  himself  with  the  objections  against 
Revelation  which  that  book  contained,  he  assumed  a  bolder 
tone,  and  commenced  an  undisguised  attack  on  the  Bible. 

"  On  finding  me  willmg  to  hear  his  objections  fairly  stated, 
and  more  disposed  to  repel  them  by  fair  argument  than  oppro- 
brious epithets  and  wild  exclamations,  he  one  day  asked  me  if 
I  had  ever  seen  the  '  Age  of  Reason  ;'  and  on  being  answered 
in  the  negative,  he  offered  to  lend  it,  upon  condition  that  I 
would  engage  to  peruse  it  attentively,  and  give  my  opinion 
with  candour  on  the  various  parts  which  passed  under  my  in- 
spection. These  preliminaries  being  settled,  the  '  Age  of 
Reason'  was  put  into  my  hands  ;  and  I  proceeded  in  its  exami- 
nation with  all  the  ability  I  possessed,  and  all  the  expedition 
that  my  avocations  would  allow. 

"  During  this  period,  scarcely  a  day  elapsed  in  which  we 
did  not  meet,  and  turn  our  attention  to  the  principles  of  the 
'  Age  of  Reason,'  which  1  controverted,  and  he  defended.  In 
this  controversy,  no  undue  advantage  was  taken  on  either  side. 
An  inadvertent  expression  each  was  at  liberty  to  recall  ;  and  the 
ground  was  abandoned  when  it  was  fairly  found  to  be  no  longer 
tenable.  The  various  arguments  to  which  these  colloquial 
debates  gave  birth  I  occasionally  committed  to  writing. 

"The  young  gentleman,  finding  that  my  attachm^nf  to  Rev- 
elation WHS  not  to  be  shaken,  recalled  the  '  Age  of  Reason,' 
under  avowed  suspicions  that  the  arguments  it  contained  were 
more  vulnerable  than,  when  he  lent  it,  he  had  been  induced  to 
believe.  He  continued,  for  some  time,  to  waver  in  uncertainty. 
He  had  embraced  infidelity,  and  hesitated  to  abandon  the  ob- 
ject of  his  choice  ;  though  he  candidly  confessed  he  was  un- 
able either  to  defend  its  principles  or  to  avert  the  consequences 
to  which  they  must  inevitably  lead.  In  this  state  of  fluctuation 
his  mind  continued  for  some  time  ;  until  his  suspicions  were 
transferred  from  the  Bible  to  the  '  Age  of  Reason,'  and  his 
confidence  in  Thomas  Paine  was  happily  exchanged  for  a 
more  pleasing  confidence  in  the  authentici'y  of  Divine  Revela- 
tion. 

'■  V/hen  this  alteration  in  his  views  had  taken  place,  he  did 
not  hesitate  to  acknowledge,  that  his  design,  in  lending  me  the 


88 


LIFE  OF  SAMUEL  DREW. 


*  Age  of  Reason,'  was  to  proselyte  me  to  the  principles  of  in- 
fidelity ;  but  that,  being  disappoinled  in  his  expectation,  his 
mind  became  perplexed,  and  be  soon  found  that  his  attempt 
had  produced  an  efl'e(!t  the  reverse  of  wliat  he  had  intended. 
Shortly  afterward  he  was  taken  ill  ;  and  after  laugiiishing 
for  some  months  in  a  decline,  his  mortal  remains  were  carried 
to  the  '  house  appointed  for  all  living.'  This  change,  and 
this  conviction,  which,  I  believe,  accompanied  him  to  his  death, 
he  attributed,  almost  exch:sively,  to  the  causes  which  have  been 
assigned.  His  mind  was  awakened  to  deliberate  reflection, 
and  directed  to  explore  those  distant  issues  and  consequences 
which  infidelity  does  not  instruct  its  votaries  or  victims  to 
survey." 

Conceiving  it  possible  that  the  discussions  between  the 
young  gentleman  and  himself  upon  the  arguments  in  Paine's 
book,  might,  if  published,  induce  other  Deists  to  question  the 
validity  of  their  theological  system,  Mr.  Drew  put  his  notes 
into  the  hands  of  Mr.  Francis  Truscolt  and  Mr.  Richard  Tref- 
fry,  ihen  stationed  as  preachers  in  the  St.  Austell  Wesleyan 
circuit.  They  were  men  of  discernment ;  and  they  strongly 
urged  him  to  commit  his  papers  to  the  press.  Acting  upon 
their  recommendation,  rather  than  upon  any  idea  which  he  en- 
tertained of  merit  in  his  performance,  he  proceeded  to  prepare 
what  he  had  written  for  publication.  The  form  of  dialogue 
was  dropped,  lest  it  should  create  unpleasant  feelings  on  the 
part  of  the  young  gentleman  and  his  friends,  and  the  "  Re- 
marks" being  addressed  immediately  to  Thomas  Paine  him- 
self, who  was  then  alive,  were  published  as  a  pamphlet,  in 
September,  1799.  We  quote  a  few  of  the  author's  prefatory 
observations, persuaded  that  the  reader  will  feel  their  value: — 

"In  proportion  as  infidelity  takes  root  in  the  mind,  those 
principles  by  which  vice  is  counteracted  will  be  eradicated, 
and  iniquity,  founded  upon  sanctions  of  public  opinion,  like  a 
destructive  torrent,  will  inundate  the  civil  and  the  religious 
world.  I  would  not,  however,  insinuate  from  hence,  that  every 
Deist  in  theory  must  be  immoral  in  practice,  because,  I  fre- 
quently observe  the  contrary  ;  but  I  am  satisfied  that  morality 
cannot  arise  from  the  principles  of  infidelity.  It  is  possible 
for  men  to  derive  a  practice  from  principles  which  Deism  de- 
rides, and  to  attribute  the  effect  to  causes  which  are  incapable 
of  producing  it. 

"  Deism  appears  to  me  to  have  but  little  to  recommend  it, 


REPLY  TO   THOMAS  PAINE. 


89 


It  claims  its  existence  on  the  fancied  inconsistencies  wliich  it 
discovers  in  religious  creeds,  without  having  one  original 
virtue  to  entitle  it  to  respect.  It  is  a  system  of  negatives,  if 
system  that  may  be  called,  whose  only  boast  is,  that  it  dis- 
covers errors  in  Revelation  ;  and  hence  assumes  a  title  to  credit, 
by  instructing  its  votaries  to  disbelieve.  Under  the  influence 
of  this  pure  negation  of  excellence,  it  promotes  its  interests  by 
the  irritation  of  those  passions,  whicli  it  should  be  the  business 
of  our  lives  to  subdue,  and  fortifies  itself  in  the  strange  com- 
motions which  it  contributes  to  raise." 

It  was  this  his  first  publication  which  procured  for  Mr. 
Drew  the  notice,  the  patronage,  and  the  friendship  of  the 
learned  Rev.  John  Whitaker,  then  rector  of  Ruan  Lanyhorne, 
a  secluded  parish,  about  twelve  miles  from  St.  Austell.  To 
this  gentleman,  well  known  as  an  antiquarian,  historian,  and 
divine,  he,  by  the  advice  of  a  friend,  forwarded  a  copy  of  his 
pamphlet,  with  a  note  of  apology  for  the  liberty  he  had  taken. 
This  opened  a  correspondence,  of  which  Mr.  Whitaker's  let- 
ters have  been  preserved.  Those  of  Mr.  Drew,  with  one  ex- 
ception only,  were  unhappily,  after  Mr.  Whitaker's  decease, 
consigned,  with  much  other  valuable  literary  correspondence, 
to  destruction.  Mr.  Whitaker's  opinion  of  Mr.  Drew  and  of 
his  performance  is  expressed  in  the  two  following  letters  to 
him : — 

«  Friday,  Feb.  14,  1800. 

"Sir, 

"  I  give  you  many  thanks  for  the  perusal  of  your  pamphlet. 
Your  reasoning  is  clear,  and  your  arguments  are  strong.  You 
have  refuted  that  wretched  infidel  completely,  even  -upon  his 
own  principles.  1  may,  perhaps,  send  an  account  of  it  to  one 
of  our  Reviews. 

"  It  gives  me  pleasure  to  hear  that  you  are  a  religious  man. 
God  give  you  grace  to  act  up  to  the  character,  and  give  nie 
too  the  same.  Such  a  character  confers  more  real  honour  than 
all  the  attributed  learnuig  in  the  world. 

"  I,  therefore,  subscribe  myself 

"  Your  well-wisher  and  friend, 
"  John  Whitaicer." 

"  Thursday,  March  27,  1800. 

"Sir, 

"  I  could  not  find  leisure,  under  a  press  of  business,  before 
H  2 


90 


LIFE  OF  SAMUEL  DREW. 


this  week,  to  read  over  again  that  phamphlet  of  yours  with 
which  I  had  been  so  much  pleased  before.  But  I  have  read  it 
with  such  increased  pleasure,  that  I  have  sent  an  account  of  it, 
with  high  commendations,  to  the  Anti-Jacobin  Review.  I 
know  not  wliether  you  ever  see  this  Review ;  if  you  do  not,  I 
will  send  you  my  copy  of  it  for  April,  when  it  comes.  But  it 
is  a  Review  of  very  great  merit,  peculiarly  opposed  to  the  Anti- 
christ of  France. 

"You  are  at  full  liberty  to  make  any  use  of  my  name,  con- 
cerning the  article,  that  you  think  will  gratify  yourself  or  your 
friends ;  while  1  remain,  with  very  great  respect  for  your 
talents  and  your  application  of  them, 

"Your  well-wisher,  favourer,  and  friend, 
"  John  Whitaker." 

From  a  congratulatory  note  addressed  to  Mr.  Drew  by  the 
originator  of  the  Cornwall  Gazette,  we  quote  a  short  paragraph. 

"  Yes,  my  dear  sir,  I  have  seen  the  Anti-Jacobin — and  had 
thoughts  of  putting  you  to  the  expense  of  a  postage  a  week 
ago,  in  the  hope  of  being  the  herald  of  good  news,  but  that  I 
doubted  it  might  have  outflown  me.  I  congratulate  you  from 
my  heart — I  am  proud,  too,  of  my  good  fortune,  and  (let  me 
add)  of  my  penetration  : — the  man  I  have  admired  and  praised 
— the  man  alone,  of  all  the  religious  professors  around  me, 
with  whom  I  can  converse  and  correspond  with  ease  and  satis- 
faction— the  man  lo  whom  I  am  indebted  for  numberless  civili- 
ties and  real  services — the  man  I  have  been  accustomed  to  call 
'my  friend  Drew' — that  this  man  should  be  crowned  in  the 
face  of  the  world  with  the  wreath  of  praise  so  justly  due  to  his 
talents  and  his  virtues,  must  give  real  pleasure  to  every  real 
friend  to  truth  and  jusiice,  but  particularly  to  me. 

"T.  Flindell. 

"  Heist  on,  May  16,  1800." 

Mr.  Drew's  pamphlets  now  appeared  in  rapid  succession. 
The  flatiering  reception  of  his  first  publication,  and  the  hon- 
ourable notice  it  obtained,  enabled  him  to  assume  a  station  not 
often  conceded  to  a  young  author.  Perhaps,  too,  he  felt  con- 
scious of  his  powers,  and  not  unwillingly  availed  himself  of  fit 
occasions  for  their  exercise. 

His  second  publication  was  in  verse.  On  the  25th  of  Feb- 
ruary, 1800,  Mr.  Patterson,  a  respect  aide  tradesman  of  St. 
Austell,  was  drowned  at  Wadebridge,  during  an  unusually  high 


EtECY  ON  PATTKRSON. 


91 


tide.  About  a  fortnight  afterward  Mr.  Drew  published  an 
Elegy  oti  his  death,  of  nearly  six  hundred  lines.  The  circum- 
stances out  of  which  this  piece  arose  gave  it  much  local  popu- 
larity ;  thougli  its  publication  caused  the  author  some  embar- 
rassment. A  rumour  very  generally  prevailed,  that  proper 
means  of  resuscitation  had  not  been  used  ;  and  Mr.  Drew 
having  given  currency  to  this  rumour,  by  some  allusion  in  his 
verses,  was  threatened  by  the  medical  gentleman  who  had  been 
summoned  at  the  time  of  the  accident,  with  an  action  for  libel ; 
but  the  matter  terminated  without  leading  to  such  an  un- 
pleasant result.  To  his  friend  iMr.  WhitaUer  he  sent  a  copy. 
The  reply,  though  laconic,  was  suflicient  to  deter  him  from 
appearing  again  before  the  public  as  a  writer  of  poetry.  From 
this  reply  it  is  obvious  that  the  Elegy  was  published  before  the 
critic  on  his  first  pamphlet  had  appeared. 

"  Thursday  evenings  April,  1800. 

"Sir, 

"  I  received  your  poem  on  Mr.  Patterson's  death,  and  thank 
you  for  it.  But  I  like  not  your  poetry  so  well  as  I  do  your 
prose.  Your  pamphlet  against  Paine  is  reviewed  in  the  Anti- 
Jacobin  for  April,  and  I  send  you  the  very  Review  for  your  in- 
spection. You  will  return  it  to  me  by  the  bearer;  and  believe 
me  to  be  very  much  and  very  warmly, 
»  Sir, 

"  Your  friend  and  servant, 

"  John  Whitaker." 

The  letter  which  Mr.  Drew  wrote  on  returning  the  Review 
produced  the  following  acknowledgment : — 

"  Thursday  evening.  May  29,  1800. 

"  Good  Sir, 

"  I  have  received  my  Review  back  safe  and  sound.  I  am 
very  glad  to  find  that  you  like  one  article  so  well.  I  wrote  it 
in  the  fullness  of  my  heart,  after  I  had  perused  yom-  pamphlet. 

"  As  to  reprinting  this  in  London,  1  thought  of  the  plan  as  I 
was  writing  to  the  manager  of  the  Review,  but  did  not  then 
settle  my  mind  about  it.  Now  you  have  mentioned  it,  and 
propose  to  make  additions,  I  will  endeavour  to  do  the  business 
for  you,  by  offering  tlie  pamphlet  to  the  manager  for  his  book- 
seller. I  shall  have  occasion  to  write  to  him  in  the  course  of 
a  few  days,  and  will  then  make  the  offer  for  you.  If  he 
accepts,  I  will  stipulate  for  his  sending  you  half  a  dozen,  or 


92 


LIFE   OF  SAMUEL  DREW. 


half  a  score  copies.  And,  in  the  mean  time,  I  advise  you  to  be 
correcting  and  enlarging  it.  I  will  give  you  notice  whether  he 
accepts  the  offer  or  not.  In  the  present  dearness  of  paper,  I 
am  doubtful  whether  he  will  accept. 

"  With  my  best  wishes  for  your  welfare,  temperal  and  eternal, 
"  I  remain  your  friend  and  servant, 

"John  Wuitaker." 

From  Mr.  Whilaker's  reference  to  a  second  edition,  as  then 
contemplated,  the  first  must  have  obtained  a  rapid  sale  on  the 
ground  of  its  own  merits,  and  antecedent  to  the  critic.  For 
unknown  reasons,  Mr.  Drew,  though  frequently  solicited,  did 
not  reprint  his  Remarks  on  Paine's  Age  of  Reason  until  twenty 
years  after  their  first  appearance.  They  were  then  published, 
with  additional  matter,  in  a  small  duodecimo  volume. 


SECTION  XII. 
Controversy  with  Mr.  Polwhele  and  "A  Friend  of  the  Church." 

In  July,  1800,  Mr.  Drew  published,  in  a  pamphlet  of  seventy 
pages,  "  Observations  on  a  Pamphlet  lately  published  by  the 
Rev.  Richard  Polwhele,  Vicar  of  Manaccan,  Cornwall,  entitled 
'Anecdotes  of  Methodism.'"  The  publication  against  which 
Mr.  Drew's  artillery  was  directed,  arose  out  of  Mr.  Polwhele's 
controversy  with  Dr.  Hawker,  late  Vicar  of  Charles,  Plymouth, 
on  the  subject  of  his  occasional  itinerancy.  With  the  merits 
of  this  question  we  meddle  not;  but  the  "Anecdotes  of  Meth- 
odism" were  a  gratuitous  and  an  unprovoked  attack  on  a  reli- 
gious body  with  whom  Dr.  Hawker  had  no  connection,  and 
who,  as  Mr.  Drew  observes,  "heard  the  tumult  of  the  distant 
throng,  but  fondly  thought  that  they  had  nothing  to  fear." 

Mr.  Polwliele  had  designated  his  statementsyhc/s,  set  them 
forth  with  all  the  minulia;  of  circumstance,  and  deduced  from 
them  the  conclusion,  that  Methodism  "  has  a  tendency  to 
betray  its  votaries  into  every  irregularity,  and  plunge  them  into 
every  vice."  To  permit  such  a  publication  to  circulate  uncon- 
tradicted would  have  been  a  tacit  admission  of  the  truth  of  his 
allegations.  More  than  one  friend  of  Methodism  stood  forward 
to  vindicate  its  tenets  from  such  foul  aspersions  ;  but  their  pub- 


CONTKOVEKSY   WITH  MR.  POLWHELE. 


93 


lications,  being  anonymous,  were  insufficient  to  counteract  tlie 
effect  of  statements  formerly  published  to  the  world  by  one 
known  as  a  literary  writer,  a  magistrate,  and  a  clergyman.  Mr. 
Drew,  therefore,  thought  it  his  duly  to  interfere,  on  behalf  of 
himself  and  associates  who  hatl  been  so  wantonly  assailed. 

Well  knowing  that  facts  could  not  be  set  aside  by  argumen- 
tative process,  he  resolved  to  sift  the  matter  thoroughly  ;  and 
taking  Mr.  Polwhele's  book,  went  through  the  whole  of  his 
facts  in  categorical  order.  He  resorted  to  several  parts  of  the 
county  which  Mr.  P.  had  stated  to  be  the  scenes  of  his  "Anec- 
dotes," to  investigate  their  truth  ;  and  where  he  could  not  go, 
he  applied  by  letter  to  the  highest  sources  of  correct  inl'or- 
mation.  The  result  of  these  inquiries  he  sums  up  tlius,  at  the 
conclusion  of  his  pamphlet : — "  I  have  now  gone  through  the 
facts  themselves,  anil  have  given  a  specific  answer  to  every 
anecdote  wiiich  is  worthy  of  notice.  Out  of  thirty-four  anec- 
dotes, eight  are  false,  of  six  I  can  get  no  account,  nine  are 
misrepresented,  five  are  related  with  the  omission  of  many  ma- 
terial circumstances,  and  all  the  remainder  are  revised  and  cor- 
rected. Perhaps  I  cannot  conclude  better  than  by  adopting 
Mr.  P.'s  own  words,  tiial  '  such  facts  are  likely  to  havb 

MORE  WEIGHT  THAN  ALL  THE  REASONING  IN  THE  WOULD.'" 

In  this  pamphlet,  Mr.  Drew  pays  little  deference  to  his  oppo- 
nent's station  in  society.  Anticipating  an  objection  upon  this 
ground,  he  observes,  in  his  introductory  pages,  "  Whether  an 
occasion  can  possibly  exist  that  can  justify  an  asperity  of  lan- 
guage, is  a  point  on  which  my  readers  may  be  divided  ;  but  if 
an  occasion  be  admitted  possible,  that  occasion  now  presents 
itself.  It  may  be  asked,  why  I  have  not  made  a  more  frequent 
application  to  Scripture  ?  why  my  language  is  so  severe?  with 
a  variety  of  such  questions  ;  to  all  of  which  I  reply — Because 
I  address  myself  to  Mr.  Polwhele. 

"Whatever  opinion  Mr.  P.  or  any  other  person  may  form  of 
these  pages,  I  hope  all  will  have  penetration  enough  to  discern 
that  recrimination  forms  no  part  of  their  contents ;  it  is  a  point 
which  1  have  studiously  avoided,  and  founded  this  pamphlet  on 
a  principle  of  self-defence. 

"  The  clergy,  as  a  body,  I  respect  and  venerate ;  and  feel 
myself  attached  to  many  from  a  principle  of  gratitude  and  per- 
sonal obligation.  To  commence,  therefore,  an  attack  on  them, 
would  be  as  wanton  as  it  would  be  base  ;  and  would  be  at  once 
to  imitate  and  condemn  the  conduct  of  Mr.  Polwhele.  1  ain 
not  conscious  of  having  used  a  single  expression  which  carries 
with  it  a  shade  of  disrespect  to  any  man  alive,  detaclied  from 


94 


LIFE  OF  SAMUEL  DREW. 


hitn  to  whom  it  is  addressed.  And  sincerely  do  I  hope,  that, 
should  any  expression  occur  which  may  strike  the  reader  dif- 
ferently from  what  it  has  struck  the  writer,  it  may  be  attributed 
to  inadvertency,  or,  in  short,  to  any  thing,  rather  than  design." 

However  severe  some  pans  of  this  pamphlet  maybe  deemed, 
the  closing  sentence,  addressed  personally  to  Mr.  Polwhele, 
breathes  all  the  spirit  of  the  Christian  ;  and  there  is  reason  to 
believe,  that  the  wish  which  it  expresses  has  been  since,  in  a 
considerable  degree,  realized: — "That  you,  sir,  may  more 
maturely  consider  your  evidences,  and  the  mere  illusions  by 
which  you  have  been  imposed  upon,  is  my  earnest  desire;  and 
that,  from  a  review  of  the  whole,  you  may  be  convinced  of  your 
error,  and  act  accordingly,  is  my  sincerest  wish.  Under  the 
influence  of  these  impressions,  I  take  my  leave  of  the  'Anec- 
dotes' and  their  author  together." 

This  controversial  publication,  though  of  local  and  temporary 
interest,  caused,  on  its  a[)pearancc,  "  no  small  stir,"  and  a 
thousand  copies  were  quickly  sold.  From  several  letters,  it  is 
evident,  that,  although  the  pamphlet  did  .not  apj)ear  until  July, 
the  original  MS.  must  have  been  written  as  early  as  January, 
when  it  was  submitted  to  the  inspection  of  more  than  one  indi- 
vidual. Mr.  Drew  was  apprehensive  that  what  he  first  wrote 
might  be  deemed  libellous  ;  and  this  apprehension,  seconded  by 
the  advice  of  his  friends,  led  him  to  throw  his  first  papers  aside 
and  write  the  whole  anew.  In  a  letter  of  Mr.  Whitaker's, 
dated  May  29,  )800,  he  says,  in  reference  to  Mr.  Polwhele, 
"Notwithstanding  the  friendship  I  feel  for  him,  I  stand  avow- 
edly opposed  to  him  in  his  publications  against  Methodism.  I 
cannot,  however,  write  against  him  ;  but  I  wish  to  see  him  pro- 
perly corrected  by  soine  one  in  your  line  of  life,  especially  if  the 
writer  keep  clear  from  Calvinism."  This  plainly  indicates 
that  Mr.  Drew  had  expressed  some  wish  for  Mr.  Whitaker  to 
expose  the  fallacy  of  Mr.  Polwhele's  statements,  and  that  he 
had  not  then  finally  resolved  upon  doing  so  himself 

On  the  publication  of  his  "  Observations,"  Mr.  Drew  for- 
warded a  copy  to  Dr.  Hawker  and  to  Mr.  Whitaker.  These 
were  acknowledged  in  the  following  terms  : — 

"  To  Mr.  Samuel  Drew. 

"  Dear  Sir, 

"  I  thank  you  for  your  kind  remembrance  of  me  in  your  let- 
ter, and  the  present  accompanying  it,  of  your  pamphlet :  I 
thank  you  for  the  favourable  opinion  expressed  of  me  both  in 
your  work  and  letter  ;  but  above  all  I  thank  you  for  your  pious 


CONTROVERSY   WITH  MR.  POLWHELE. 


gs 


■wishes  that  the  Lord  may  bless  my  ministry,  and  crown  it 
with  success.  Dear  sir,  accept  my  best  thanks  for  this  last 
and  best  favour.  May  the  Great  Head  of  His  church  and 
people  hear  and  answer  your  prayers  ;  and  may  He  graciously 
recompense  your  prayers  for  me  seven-fold  into  your  own 
bosom  ! 

"  Respecting  our  controversy  with  Mr.  Polwhele,  I  have 
long  since  desired  to  forget  it.  His  situation  is  too  awful  to 
keep  alive  my  resentment  against  him  :  and  I  pray  never  to  re- 
member him  wiiiioiit  connecting  with  it  that  precious  doctrine 
of  the  apostle,  1  Cor.  iv.  7.  But,  while  I  say  this,  I  beg  you 
not  to  suppose  thai  I  intend  it  as  conveying  the  least  disappro- 
bation of  your  pamphlet — the  farthest  from  it.  As  an  enemy 
to  vital  religion  he  merits  every  line  of  it ;  and  you  have  done 
exactly  by  him  as  you  ought.  But  yet,  as  far  as  it  concerns 
our  own  personal  comfort,  I  very  much  doubt  whether  the  ser- 
vants of  the  Lord,  in  a  day  like  the  present,  are  not  better  en- 
gaged than  in  staying  to  notice  the  blasphemy  of  gainsayers, 
while  pressing  on  in  their  Master's  work,  according  to  that  ex- 
ample, 2  Cor.  vi.  8.  Perliaps  it  may  astonish  you.  when  I  say, 
that,  under  this  idea,  I  have  never  seen,  much  less  read,  Mr. 
P.'s  religious  jest-book  of  anecdotes. 

"  I  very  mucii  regret  that  you  should  have  kept  back  from 
calling  upon  me  when  at  Plymouth,  through  the  want  of  intro- 
duction. You  certainly  might  have  formed  some  opinion  of 
my  courtesy  by  your  own.  Men  of  liberal  minds  must  ever 
be  accessible.  And  1  am  so  confident  of  this  concerning  you, 
that  I  shall,  without  reserve,  and  without  the  etiquette  of  any 
introduction,  if  ever  I  pass  tln-ough  St.  Austell,  make  it  my 
business  to  find  you  out,  and  ask  you  of  your  welfare.  And  I 
am  not  without  hopes  that  this  may  be  the  case  ;  for,  if  my 
dear  friend  Mr.  Hitchins  finds  himself  disposed  to  take  charge 
of  my  church,  I  mean  (D.  V.)  to  take  his  ;  and  then,  in  defiance 
of  Mr.  P.  and  the  whole  phalanx  connected  with  him,  I  hope 
once  more  to  preach  in  Cornwall,  among  the  people,  the  un- 
searchable riches  of  Christ. 

"  In  the  interim,  dear  sir,  I  commit  and  commend  you  to 
God,  and  to  the  word  of  His  grace,  which  is  able  to  build  you 
up,  and  to  give  you  an  inheritance  among  all  them  that  are 
sanctified. 

"1  remain,  in  the  best  of  bonds, 
'•  Yours  in  ours, 

"  Robert  Ham  kiir. 

"  Plymouth,  Charles  Vicarage, 
August  18,  1800." 


96 


tIFE  OF  SAMUEL  DREW. 


"  To  Mr.  Samuel  Drew. 

"  Good  Sir, 

"  I  have  received  your  pamphlet,  have  read  it  with  much 
satisfaction,  and  return  you  my  warm  thanks  for  it.  You  have 
answered  Mr.  Polwhele  completely  ;  nor  will  he  attempt  to 
answer  you  again,  I  think.  Your  acutciiess  in  reasoning 
amazes  me.  I  felt  it  in  your  pamphlet  against  Paine,  and  1 
feel  it  a  second  time  now.  On  the  proofs  of  it,  in  both  your 
publications.  1  congratulate  you. 

"  You  hinted  in  your  last,  you  say,  that  you  could  wish 
me  to  peruse  your  manuscript  before  it  went  to  the  press  ; 
but  that  the  delicacy  of  my  situation,  with  regard  to  Mr.  Pol- 
whele, would  not  permit  you  to  press  your  wish.  1  re- 
member that  you  hinted  this,  but  forget  why  I  did  not  reply 
to  your  hint.  1  rather  think  I  must  have  replied.  I  be- 
lieve, however,  that  I  thought,  in  delicacy  to  yourself,  I 
should  not  revise  the  manuscript ;  that  the  work  should  be 
all  your  own,  for  your  own  credit  sake ;  and  that  any  trifling 
corrections  which  I  might  make  in  it  would  take  off  more 
from  the  character  and  influence  of  the  work  than  what 
they  could  possibly  add  to  cither.  Mr.  Polwhele,  particularly, 
would  have  attributed  the  acutest  parts  of  the  pamphlet,  not  to 
you,  but  me  ;  would  thus  have  lowered  you  in  the  eyes  of  the 
world  ;  and,  if  he  quits  the  contest,  have  pretended  he  quitted 
it  to  me  and  not  you.  For  these  reasons,  I  believe,  1  declined 
to  peruse  your  pampldet ;  and  I  still  think  them  good  in  them- 
selves, as  well  as  friendly  to  you.  Yet  I  remennber,  I  felt 
surprised,  when  Mr.  Flindell  told  me  he  had  got  it  for  printing. 
I  aiTi  glad,  however,  for  the  same  reasons,  that  I  did  not  see 
you  as  you  passed  with  it  to  Falmouth.  I  should  have  been 
glad  indeed  to  see  you,  and  peruse  it ;  but  I  can  now  say  with 
truth,  what  then  I  could  not  have  said,  that  I  had  never  seen 
it  till  I  read  it  in  print.  You  I  shall  be  very  glad  to  see  at 
any  time.  I  beg,  indeed,  you  will  call  on  me  the  next  time 
you  j)ass  this  way  ;  and  contrive,  if  you  can,  to  take  a  dinner 
with  me.  I  have  taken  an  avowed  part  with  you,  and  shall 
continue  to  take  it,  against  Mr.  Polwhele.  I  respect  his  talents, 
and  have  done  him  some  services ;  but  think  very  differently 
from  him  in  theology. 

*  ***** 

"  I  wish  I  could,  with  any  propriety,  do  for  your  present 
pamphlet  what  1  did  for  your  last ;  by  reviewing  it.  My  situ- 
ation is  such,  however,  as  forbids  me.  To  do  so,  would  be  to 
be  known  ;  as  I  shoidd  certainly  be  challenged,  and  (if  chal- 
lenged) would  as  certainly  not  prevaricate.    And  to  be  known, 


CONTROVERSIAL  PAMPHLET. 


97 


•would  as  certainly  bring  on  a  violent  quarrel  between  me,  Mr. 
Polwhele,  and  all  his  friends.  I  wish  much  to  serve  you  in 
this  manner, — had  even  once  (as  I  am  naturally  fearless) 
resolved  to  serve  you,  but  on  cooler  consideration  see  I 
cannot. 

***** 
"  With  every  wish  for  your  success,  in  business  and  in  pub- 
lications, I  remain, 

"  Good  sir, 

"  Your  friend  and  servant, 

"  John  Whitaker. 

"  Monday,  August  25,  1800." 

Generous  minds  harbour  no  resentment.  As  Mr.  Whitaker 
had  predicted,  Mr.  Polwhele  vvas  content  to  let  the  matter 
drop,  and  to  forbear  any  further  direct  attack  on  the  Metho- 
dists. He  had  learned  to  respect  the  abilities  and  the  motives 
of  his  antagonist ;  and  Mr.  Drew,  as  far  as  he  was  personally 
concerned,  was  ready,  on  the  first  indication  of  friendly  over- 
ture, to  ofler  the  hand  of  reconciliation.  By  an  act  of  voluntary 
and  unexpected  magnanimity,  shortly  afterward,  Mr.  Pol- 
whele made  Mr.  Drew  his  debtor ;  and  this  led  to  a  corre- 
spondence, and  an  interchange  of  friendly  offices. 

Between  Mr.  Polwhele  and  Mr.  Drew  hostilities  had  ceased  ; 
but  among  the  seconds  in  this  warfare  the  controversial  spirit 
was  not  at  rest.  This,  in  the  following  year,  brought  Mr.  D. 
again  into  the  field. 

It  has  been  intimated  that  several  anonymous  writers  took 
part  in  the  Hawkerian  controversy.  With  being  the  author 
of  one  of  these  publications  against  Mr.  Polwhele,  entitled, 
"  Methodism  tried  and  acquitted  at  the  bar  of  Common  Sense," 
Mr.  Drew  was  publicly  charged,  in  a  pamphlet  of  nearly  one 
hundred  pages,  by  a  person  calling  himself  A  Friend  of  the 
Church.  Allegation  was  considered  by  the  writer  as  equiva- 
lent to  proof,  and  personal  invective  was  freely  dealt  out  to- 
wards him  on  this  assumed  ground.  To  rebut  this  gratuitous 
and  unfounded  charge,  Mr.  Drew  wrote  a  letter  for  insertion 
in  the  Cornwall  Gazette,  which  his  friend  Mr.  Flindell  declined 
publishing.  In  consequence  of  this  refusal,  it  was  printed,  with 
some  additions,  in  a  small  pamphlet,  to  which  Mr.  Drew  thus 
alludes,  in  the  postscript  of  a  letter  to  Mr.  Whitaker,  July  27. 
"  Since  your  departure,  I  have  been  attacked  by  an  anonymous 
writer  in  behalf  of  Mr.  Polwhele,  who  charges  me  with  a  pam- 


98 


LIFE  OF  SAMUFL  DKEW. 


phlet  of  which  I  am  not  the  author,  and  makes  that  misfake 
the  source  of  attack.  I  have  in  the  press  a  small  pain|)hlet, 
price  fourpence,  iu  reply,  which  I  expect  will  be  out  in  about  a 
week." 

Tiiis  publication  led  to  an  overture  of  friendship  from  his 
unknown  oj)poufcnt,  which,  tlirougii  some  misappreheubion,  was 
afterward  re  tracted.  Tu  tins  circumstance  the  following  let- 
ter of  Mr.  Drew  alludes;  and  with  it  the  controversy,  as  far 
as  he  was  engaged,  terminates. 

"  To  the  '  Friend  of  the  Church.'' 

"  St.  Austell,  October  26,  1801. 

"  Good  Sir, 

"I  have  lately  received  from  you  two  letters,  which,  although 
dictated  by  the  sarne  primary  occasion,  are  evidently  written 
under  very  different  impressions,  and  discover  a  mind  agitated 
by  A  conflict  of  opposite  sensations.  The  first  of  these  letters 
is  replete  with  civility  and  overtures  of  friendship ;  but  the 
latter  upbraids  me  witli  a  breach  of  confidence,  and  the  guilt 
of  a  most  deliberate  falsehood.  The  former  letter,  from  the 
concealment  of  your  iiauu-,  I  suspected  of  insincerity  ;  and  the 
latter,  by  throwing  oif  the  mask,  has  sanctioned  my  sus- 
picion. 

"  1  should,  however,  have  replied  lo  your  first,  had  not  the 
omission  of  your  name  defeated  the  de^ign  for  which  it  was 
avowedly  written.  It  lias  been  observed  by  Dr.  Young,  on  the 
nature  of  friendsliip,  that 

'  Reserve  will  wound  it,  and  distrust  destroy.' 

If,  therefore,  confidence  be  necessary  either  to  the  existence  or 
stability  of  friendship,  you  have  violated  its  fundamental  prin- 
ciple in  your  first  overture  ;  and  it  is  to  this  violation  alone  that 
you  have  to  look  for  that  answer  which,  in  your  first  letter, 
you  requested  from  me. 

"  Tiiat  you,  sir,  have  been  '  the  sport  and  prey  of  rumour 
and  conjecture,'  your  charging  me  with  being  the  author  of 
'  Methodism  Tried' is  a  convincing  proof;  and  I  leel  myself 
rather  at  a  loss  to  conceive  how  you  could  so  easily  fall  a  vic- 
tim a  second  time  to  the  same  species  of  imposition. 

"If  there  be  in  himian  nature  that  magnanimity  which  poets 
have  feigned,  and  which  philosophers  have  attempted  lo  prove, 
I  doubt  not  that  you  will  assent  to  the  sentiment  of  Homer, 
that — 


PACIFIC  LETTER. 


99 


'A  noble  mind  disdains  not  to  repent.' 

And  I  doubt  not  that  j'ou  will  readily  suspend  those  unfavour- 
able iin[)ressions  which  that  report  has  made  on  your  mind, 
and  whic-h  my  present  letter  is  (iesi^^ned  to  do  away.  Your 
friendship,  or  that  of  any  other  gemleman,  I  should  be  am- 
bitious to  acknowledge,  and  solicitous  to  retain  ;  but  such  over- 
tures as  are  revoked  through  error  carry  a  presumption  that 
they  are  oflered  through  caprice,  and  leave  the  person  to  whom 
they  are  made,  and  from  whom  they  are  taken,  but  little  reason 
to  lament  his  loss.  Whatever  is  held  by  a  precarious  tenure 
sinks  in  value  in  proportion  to  its  instability. 

"  I  have  not  written  this  to  renew  hostilities,  but  to  con- 
vince you  of  your  deception ;  not  to  upbraid  your  credulity, 
but  to  mark  the  folly  of  depending  on  conjecture  and  report. 
It  is  for  you,  sir,  after  tlie  reception  of  this  letter,  to  say  on 
what  foundation  your  letters  stand,  and  to  decide  whether  or 
not  I  have  acted  unv.'orlhy  of  thai  confidence  which  you  have 
reposed  in  me. 

"To  ask  you  now  to  reveal  your  name  may,  perhaps,  be 
imposing  '  a  task  for  liunian  frailty  too  severe.'  I  shall  not, 
therefore,  urge  my  solicitations.  I  will,  nevertheless,  frankly 
tell  you,  that  the  avowal  of  your  name  is  essential  to  the  reci- 
procity of  that  friendship  which  the  concealment  of  it  forbids 
ine  to  express  :  I  therefore  sincerely  say — Give  me  your  nana, 
and  r  will  give  you  my  hand. 

"  Animosity,  sir,  has  never  formed  the  smallest  part  of  my 
character  in  my  conduct  towards  you ;  and  this  letter  will 
convince  you  that  I  scorn  to  avail  myself  of  those  advantages 
which  your  error  migiii  occasion.  Should  you,  sir,  think  proper 
to  avow  your  name,  if  Providence  spare  me  to  take  another 
journey  in  your  neighbourhood,  I  will  do  myself  the  pleasnr' 
of  waiting  upon  you ;  when,  I  doubt  not,  a  renewal  of  hostilitie.s 
will  (in  a  general  sense)  be  precluded  by  a  concurrence  ol 
sentiment.  And  would  you,  sir,  act  in  the  same  manner,  I 
should  esteem  it  as  a  favour.  In  the  mean  while,  passing  by 
those  mistakes  and  differences  which  will  unavoidably  arise 
from  the  checkered  state  of  human  life,  and  sincerely  wishing 
you  every  blessing  for  time  and  eternity, 

"  I  subscribe  myself  your  well-wisher, 

"  Samuel  Drew." 


100 


LIFE   or  SAMUEL  DREW. 


SECTION  XIII. 

Progress  of  Mr.  Drew's  Essay  on  the  Soul — Interview  with  Mr.  Whita- 
ker — Acquaintance  with  Mr.  Britton — Essay  on  the  Soul  published — 
Its  favourable  reception — Mr.  Polwhele's  generous  conduct. 

We  now  advert  to  Mr.  Drew's  more  important  work,  the 
"  Essay  on  the  Immateriality  and  Immortality  of  the  Human 
Soul,"  the  publication  of  which  placed  him  in  the  highest  rank 
of  Christian  metaphysicians. 

Although  he  had  received  so  many  marks  of  kindness  from 
his  friend  and  adviser  Mr.  Whitaker,  and  there  had  been  a 
frequent  interchange  of  letters,  yet,  until  the  close  of  the  year 
1800,  no  personal  interview  had  taken  place.  In  a  letter  from 
his  friend  and  printer  Mr.  Flindell,  dated  October  lOlh  of  that 
year,  this  question  occurs  : — "  Why  do  you  deprive  yourself 
of  the  opportunities  that  open  to  you  of  becoming  acquainted 
with  great  characters  1  Go  and  see  Mr.  Whitaker,  Dr.  Haw- 
ker, and  all  that  fall  in  your  way.  Exchange  a  little  of  your 
modest  worth  for  my  impudence.  You  love  what  is  curious 
and  excellent,  in  art  and  nature.  What  is  more  curious,  more 
excellent,  more  to  be  admired,  than  wise  and  good  men — the 
noblest  work  of  God  ?"  Acting  probably  upon  this  suggestion, 
and  recollecting  the  frequent  and  pressing  invitations  which 
he  had  received  from  Mr.  Whitaker,  he  called  soon  afterward 
upon  his  literary  friend.  Tlie  result  of  that  interview,  which 
was  mutually  gratifying,  may  be  gathered  from  the  following 
letter  of  Mr.  Drew.  It  was  given  by  Mr.  Whitaker,  as  a  lit- 
erary curiosity,  to  John  Britton,  Esq.,  the  well-known  anti- 
quarian and  topographical  writer,  and  was  thus  preserved. 

"  To  the  Rev.  John  Whitaker. 

"St.  Austell,  July  27,  1801. 

"  Rev.  and  dear  Sir, 
"  It  was  with  the  sincerest  regret  that  I  heard  of  your  de- 
parlure  from  Cornwall,  and  the  occasion  which  rendered  that 
departure  necessary ;  and  the  same  motive  which  then  gave 
me  regret  now  urges  me  to  congratulate  you  on  your  return. 


£8SAV  ON  THE  SOVL. 


101 


•'You  will,  perhaps,  recollect,  when  I  had  the  honour  of 
spending  a  few  hours  in  your  company,  some  months  since  (in 
which  I  never  felt  myself  so  completely  '  awed  into  silence  by 
superior  greatness'),  that  among  other  incoherent  expressions 
which  I  dropped,  I  hinted  that  I  had  revolved  in  my  mind  this  ab- 
struse and  important  subject — the  Immateriality  and  Immor- 
tality of  the  Human  Soul.  You  gave  me  encouragement  to 
proceed.  Stimulated  by  this  encouragement,  I  returned  home 
and  devoted  my  leisure  hours  to  that  subject.  I  had  brought 
it  to  the  state  of  forwardness  in  wliich  you  saw  it  before  you 
went  ofTto  Bath,  but  had  no  opportunity  of  sending  it  for  your 
inspection.  During  your  absence  it  has  lain  in  a  torpid  state. 
No  human  eye  (but  my  own)  has  ever  seen  it ;  and  I  have 
reserved  it  for  this  purpose, — if  it  has  any  merit,  Mr.  Whitaker 
shall  discover  it;  if  not,  he  alone  shall  Vvitncss  its  disgrace. 

"To  descant  upon  its  excellences  or  defects  would  betray 
a  vanity  which  I  would  not  wish  to  expose.  I  therefore  send 
it  naked  into  your  iiands  ;  and  if  I  have  not  been  deceived  in 
those  ideas  which  I  have  been  accustomed  to  associate  with  the 
name  of  Mr.  Whitaker,  he  will  give  it  a  patient  and  impartial 
perusal.  Were  it  in  print,  I  would  solicit  mercy  ;  as  it  is  not,  I 
now  ask  nothing  but  that  candour  which  rigorous  justice  will 
allow  ;  and  can  only  say — 

'  Consent,  it  lives  ;  it  dies  if  you  refuse  !' 

I  would  not  wish  to  direct  your  attention  to  the  anomalies 
which  float  upon  its  surface,  but  to  the  solidity  of  its  contents, 
and  to  the  rotundity  of  its  figure.  Mark  those  pages  which 
are  inconcdusive ;  and  separate  tiie  ore  from  the  dross.  Pardon, 
dear  sir,  the  liberty  which  I  take,  'i'he  only  apology  I  can  make 
is,  that  I  address  myself  to  a  gentleman  who  has  more  than 
called  himself  the  friend  of  his  friend  and  servant, 

"Samuel  Drew. 
"P.S. — Should  you  recommend  it  to  the  world,  I  shall  be 
under  the  same  necessity  of  soliciting  you  to  examine  the 
polish  of  its  surface,  that  I  am  now  of  requesting  a  deeper  inves- 
tigation. 

"  I  had  almost  forgotten  to  observe,  that  I  have  purposely 
omitted  to  give  any  title,  till  I  have  the  result  of  your  opinions. 
The  subject  divides  from  immateriality  to  immortality  at  the 
eeventy-ninlh  page." 

In  the  letter  which  follows,  addressed  to  another  literary 
12 


102 


LIFE  OF  SAMUEL  DREW. 


clergyman  in  the  neighbourhood  of  St.  Austell,  from  whom 
Mr.  Drew  had  received  various  marks  of  kindness,  the  opinion 
of  Mr.  Wliitaker  relative  to  the  MS.  is  intimated.  It  supplies 
a  vacancy  which  the  loss  of  Mr.  Wliitaker's  own  expression 
of  his  sentiments  would  otherwise  occasion. 

"  To  the  Rco.  Philip  Lyne,  LL.D. 

"St.  Austell,  October 29th,  1801. 

"Rev.  Sir, 

"  After  a  delay  for  which  I  know  not  how  either  to  account 
or  apologize,  I  return  you  your  book.  A  treatise  of  that  kind  I 
had  never  seen  before,  but  have  found  on  its  perusal  a  mirror 
in  my  mind.  I  have  found  it  of  great  service  to  me  in  meth- 
odising and  arranging  my  ideas,  and  in  separating  those  ideas 
which  nature  had  made  distinct,  but  which  habit  and  prejudice 
had  associated  together.  In  addition  to  that  benefit  which  I 
have  received  from  the  perusal  of  '  Dr.  Watts's  Logic,'  I  have  to 
acknowledge  my  obligation  to  Dr.  Lyne,  for  his  kindness  in 
favouring  me  with  it,  and  for  assuming  that  manly  fortitude 
which  he  has  manifested,  in  noticing  a  person  in  my  situation, 
and  complimenting  with  marks  of  approbation  a  man  whom 
sordid  minds  would  shun  with  abhorrence  and  coniempt. 

"  You  will  remember,  that  when  I  was  at  your  house,  I 
hinted  '  that  I  had  a  MS.  in  a  state  of  forwardness,  on  the  Im- 
materiality and  Immortality  of  tlie  Human  Soul ;  and  that  I 
had  reserved  the  perusal  of  the  MS.  for  Mr.  Whitaker.'  On 
his  return  from  Bath,  I  presented  it  to  him  ;  since  which  he  has 
examined  and  returned  it,  with  an  opinion  which  it  would  dis- 
cover vanity  in  me  to  express,  and  ingratitude  to  conceal. — 
Judge,  therefore,  into  what  a  dilemma  I  am  brought.  If  you, 
sir,  feel  a  wisli  to  peruse  it,  you  have  only  to  signify  your  desire, 
when  it  shall  be  readily  forwarded  by  him  who  wishes  you 
happiness  in  time  and  in  eternity. 

"  Samuel  Drew." 

Guided  by  Mr.  Whitaker's  advice,  and  authorized  to  use  his 
name  to  any  extent,  in  the  way  of  recommendation,  Mr.  Drew, 
early  in  the  year  1802,  issued  his  proposals  for  publishing  by 
subscription.  These  were  received  in  the  most  flattering  man- 
ner ;  and  within  a  few  months,  his  subscription  list  comprised 
a  large  proportion  of  the  nobility  and  gentry  of  Cornwall. 

While  the  Essay  on  the  Soul  was  in  this  stage,  Mr.  D.  be- 
came acquainted  with  Mr.  Britten,  whose  name  has  just  been 


ISSAY  ON  THE  SOUL. 


103 


mentioned.  This  gpnileman  was  then  engaged  on  his  "  Beau- 
ties of  England  and  Wales,"  and  was  preparing  his  "Cornwall" 
for  publication.  Arriving  at  St.  Aiisteli,  he  called  on  Mr.  Drew, 
as  a  man  of  literary  note  in  the  town  ;  and  this  call  laid  the 
foundation  for  future  intimacy  and  reciprocal  acts  of  kindness. 
Alluding  to  their  interview,  Mr.  Britton  says,  in  a  letter  to  Mr. 
Drew,  "  Believe  me,  I  felt  peculiarly  happy  in  your  company, 
and  longed  for  further  conversation.  I  found  your  remarks 
and  suggestions  replete  with  thought,  and  gladly  observed  that 
you  darted  out  of  the  commonplace  track  of  prejudice  and 
illiberality  which  nine-tenths  of  mankind  rigidly  pursue." 

In  a  letter  to  Mr.  Britton,  dated  July  26,  1802,  Mr.  Drew 
observes,  "My  work  goes  on  slowly,  but  regularly  ;  about 
sixty  pages  will  be  finished  this  day.  I  intend  to  dedicate  it 
to  Mr.  Whitaker,  if  he  will  permit.  Seven  hundred  copies  are 
printing,  and  about  six  hundred  and  forty  are  subscribed  for; 
so  that  I  expect  to  have  but  few  on  sale  after  the  work  enters 
the  world.  I  have  been  sanctioned,  beyond  my  most  sanguine 
expectation,  by  all  orders  and  ranks  in  Cornwall.  I  can  repay 
them  with  gratitude,  which  is  all  that  poverty  has  to  bestow. 
The  sanction  of  the  Rev.  John  Whitaker  has  given  me  a  celeb- 
rity which  I  fear  I  cannot  support ;  and  I  have  my  doubts 
whether  expectation  be  not  raised  to  be  disappointed.'" 

His  book  being  nearly  through  the  press,  Mr.  Drew  asked 
permission  of  Mr.  Whitaker  to  dedicate  the  work  to  him,  and 
received  the  following  manly  and  characteristic  reply. 

"Saturday,  September  4,  1802. 

"  Dear  Sir, 

"  I  received  your  letter,  and  perused  your  address,  some  days 
ago ;  but  I  deferred  to  write,  because  I  wished  not  to  write  by 
the  post.  I  am,  however,  compelled  to  do  so  at  last ;  and  I 
now  reply  with  my  free  leave  for  you  to  do  as  you  propose.  I 
am  always  happy  to  serve  you,  and  shall  always  be  happy. 
I  might,  indeed,  object  to  some  expressions  of  gratitude  towards 
me.  But  to  object  would  look  like  affectation  ;  and  I  feel  my- 
self superior  to  all  affectation.  In  that  spirit,  I  wish  you  all 
imaginable  good  from  your  publication,  and  subscribe  myself 
very  cordially, 

"  Your  friend  and  servant, 

"John  Whitaker. 
"  Mr.  Samuel  Dreic,  shoemaJcer,  St.  Austell." 


If  the  patron  were  above  the  affectation  of  humility,  the 


104 


LIFE  OF  SAMUEL  DREW. 


affectation  of  gratitude  will  scarcely  be  alleged  against  the 
protege.  Never  did  Mr.  Drew  speak  or  write  of  Mr.  Whita- 
ker  but  in  terms  of  the  highest  respect  and  admiration.  "It 
must  be  obvious,"  he  says,  "  to  all,  that  I  stand  indebted  to 
Mr.  Whitaker  for  my  literary  existence,  by  his  publicly  avow- 
ing himself  my  friend  at  a  moment  when  recommendation  or  a 
want  of  it  must  have  finally  determined  my  fate.  1  was  then 
in  a  criiical  situation ;  insomuch  that  a  single  dash  of  his  pen 
might  have  doomed  me  to  perpetual  silence  and  obscurity,  and 
made  me  feel  an  aversion  from  those  studies  in  which  before  I 
had  so  ardently  delighted."*  To  no  one,  therefore,  could  he 
have  dedicated  his  book  witli  so  much  propriety  as  to  this 
gentleman  ;  and  he  made  it  a  point  to  retain  the  dedication  in 
every  edition  of  the  work.. 

This  address,  characterized  by  the  reviewers  as  exhibiting  a 
strain  of  manly  and  grateful  acknowledgment  which  reflects 
much  honour  on  the  patron  and  the  writer,  can  scarcely  be 
deemed  out  of  place  in  our  pages. 

«'  TO  THE  REV.  JOHN  WHITAKER,  SECTOR  OF  RUAN- 
LANVHORNE,  COliNWALL. 

"Rev.  Sir, 

"  When  this  dedication  meets  your  eye,  it  will  be  unne- 
cessary for  me  to  say  that  I  am  a  stranger  to  all  ingenious 
modes  of  address,  and  that  tlic  polite  arts  of  pleasing  are 
a  species  of  learning  which  I  have  not  yet  acquired:  btJt 
silence  is  not  justifiable,  when  gratitude  forbids  an  acknow- 
ledgment to  be  suppressed.  It  is  a  full  conviction  of  your 
favours  v  liich  dictates  to  my  pen  ;  and  I  intend  nothing  more, 
in  this  adchess,  tiian  publicly  to  tell  the  world  to  whom  1  am 
indebted,  while  I  express  to  you  the  warm  effusions  of  a  grate- 
ful heart. 

"When,  without  patron  or  friend,  I  abandoned  my  first  pubhca- 
tion  (Remarks  on  the  first  part  of  Paine's  Age  of  Reason)  to 
its  fate,  you  saw  it  floHtiiig  on  the  stream  of  time  towards  the 
caves  of  oblivion,  and  kindly  extending  the  hand  of  unsolicited 
friendship,  rescued  it  from  the  shade. 

"Under  the  forms  of  coinmon  civility,  yon  have  treated  me  { 
with  a  degree  of  politeness  to  which  my  deserts  can  bear  no 
proportion  ;  while  the  condescension  of  your  manners  has 
taught  me  to  surmount  that  distance  which  learning  and  sta- 
tion had  placed  between  us. 


*  Essay  on  Identity  of  the  Body.    Address  to  the  Reader. 


ESSAV  ON  THE  SOUL. 


105 


"  Superior  to  those  local  prejudices  which  might  have  influ- 
enced a  mind  devoid  of  magnanimity,  you  have  more  than  called 
yourself  my  friend  ;  while,  stimulated  by  your  encouragement, 
I  have  prosecuted  with  vigour  the  present  work,  which,  ab- 
stractedly from  this  circumstance,  would,  in  all  probability, 
never  have  seen  completion. 

"  Destitute  of  literary  reputation  in  myself,  and  treated  with 
indifference  by  several  of  those  whom  custom  had  taught  me 
to  call  my  friends — the  link  which  united  completion  to  publi- 
cation originated  also  with  you. 

"  Distinguished  in  the  learned  world  as  an  historian  and 
philologist,  the  name  of  iNIr.  Whitaker  has  been  my  passport 
to  many  of  my  subscribers,  to  whom,  without  it,  even  pre- 
sumption itself  would  not  have  permitted  me  to  apply  :  but, 
sanctioned  by  your  approbation  of  my  manuscript,  I  have  ad- 
dressed myself  to  the  ladies  and  gentlemen  of  Cornwall ;  and, 
beyond  my  most  sanguine  expectation,  their  generosity  has 
crowned  my  application  with  success. 

"  Under  these  circumstances,  duty  is  dictated  by  kindness  ; 
and  I  should  reproach  myself  with  that  ingratitude  to  which  I 
hope  my  bosom  will  long  remain  a  stranger,  were  I  to  omit  the 
acknowledgment  of  favours,  where  I  cannot  cancel  obliga- 
tions. 

"  The  uniform  attachment  of  .Mr.  Whitaker  to  the  cause  of 
Christianity,  and  his  ability  to  defend  her  outposts  against  ail 
opposers,  have  been  sufficiently  appreciated  both  by  friends 
and  foes  :  the  present  work,  therefore,  approaches  you  by  a 
kind  of  natural  right.  But  to  proceed  further  in  detailing  tiiose 
facts  whiL-ii  are  necessary  to  make  good  its  claim  would  look 
like  adulation  : — in  proceeding,  I  must  hurt  your  leelings  ;  and 
in  desisting,  I  must  stifle  my  own  ;  and,  though  I  wish  to  be 
grateful,  I  must  be  silent. 

"  To  the  nobility,  the  gentry,  and  other  respectable  inhabit- 
ants of  Cornwall  I  acknowledge  myself  to  be  particularly  in- 
debted for  their  patronage  and  support.  Tiiere  are  many 
among  them  who  have  interested  themselves  in  the  issue  of 
my  present  publication,  whose  names  it  would  gratify  my  feel- 
ings to  publish  ;  but  it  is  a  liberty  which  I  dare  not  take. — To 
notice  all  the  marks  of  attention  which  I  have  received,  would 
be  to  violate  the  bounds  of  prudence ;  and  to  make  selections 
would  be  invidious  and  unjust. 

"  To  them,  and  to  you,  this  volume  is  now  presented  ;  and 
llie  fate  wiiich  awaits  it  cannot  be  remote.  Under  the  sanction 
of  your  approbation,  I  shall  feel  tranquillity  amid  the  severities 


106 


LIFE  OF  SAMUEL  DREW. 


of  criticism ;  and  this  reflection  will  afibrd  me  consolation  in 
obscurity,  though  forgetfulness  should  stamp  her  signet  upon 
my  work.  J3ui  should  a  diflerent  fate  await  it, — should  it  rise 
into  some  degree  of  reputation, — this  paper  will  bear  tes- 
timony to  my  consciousness  of  being  laid  under  lasting  obliga- 
tions to  my  friends. 

"  That  tliey,  and  you,  in  the  regions  of  Immortality,  may 
inherit  that  glory  which  God  has  reserved  in  a  future  state  of 
being  for  them  that  love  and  fear  him,  is  among  the  genuine 
wishes  of  my  heart.  The  influence  of  discordant  motives,  no 
doubt,  sometimes  produces  changes  in  the  human  mind  which 
baffle  all  calculation  ;  but,  judging  from  those  feelings  which 
have  long  been  the  inhabitants  of  my  breast,  gratitude  and  life 
must  forsake  together  the  bosom  of, 

"  Reverend  sir, 

"  their  and  your 
"  much  obliged  and  very  humble  servant, 

"  Samuel  Drew. 

"  St.  Austell,  Cornwall,  Nov.  5th,  1302." 

Alluding,  on  a  subsequent  occasion,  to  this  dedication,  and 
to  other  expressions  of  thankfulness  from  Mr.  Drew,  Mr.  W. 
remarks,  "  You  are  more  grateful,  indeed,  than  you  need  to  be 
for  any  kindnesses  which  I  have  shown  you.  I  shall  always, 
however,  be  gratified  in  looking  back  upon  them,  if  they  only 
serve  to  encourage  and  animate  you  to  the  writing  such  an 
Essay  as  the  present." 

It  was  Mr.  Whitaker's  design  to  review  Mr.  Drew's  Essay 
in  the  Anti-Jacobin.  In  this  intention  he  found  himself  pleas- 
ingly anticipated,  by  a  most  favourable  critique  in  the  Feb- 
ruary number  of  that  Review,  for  1803, — a  critique  proceeding, 
as  the  following  note  indicates,  from  a  most  unexpected  quarter. 

"  Mr.  Whitakcr  sends  his  kindest  compliments  to  Mr.  Drew ; 
is  happy  to  hear  of  his  success ;  and  sends  him  an  Anti-Jaco- 
bin Review  of  his  work.  It  is  very  strongly  in  favour  of  the 
work.  Yet,  what  is  more  wonderful  and  more  pleasing,  it  is 
evidently  written  by  Mr.  Polwhele. 

"  This  supersedes  all  necessity  for  Mr.  Wiiitaker's  review- 
ing the  work.  In  the  Anti-Jacobin,  indeed,  Mr.  W.  is  antici- 
pated, though  he  had  bespoke  a  place  for  his  remarks.  But 
the  edilor,  as  Mr.  W.  supposes,  thought  the  praise  would  come 
belter  from  Mr.  Polwhele,  as  a  known  enemy,  than  from  Mr. 


ESSAY  ON  THE  SOUL. 


107 


Vi\,  as  a  known  friend.  And  Mr.  W.  has  peculiar  reasons 
for  thinking  that,  the  editor  wishes  now  to  oblige  Mr.  W. 
much. 

"  Thursilay  Evening,  Feb.  17,  1803." 

This  act  of  genefosity  on  the  part  of  Mr.  Polwhele  could 
not,  for  obvious  reasons,  but  excite  a  grateful  feeling  in  the 
breast  of  Mr.  Drew.  In  his  upright  mind,  to  acknowledge  an 
obligation  was  ever  esteemed  an  act  of  duty.  He  perused  the 
critique  so  interesting  and  important  to  himself,  and  then  ad- 
dressed the  following  letter  to  its  supposed  author. 

"  St.  Austell,  Feb.  26,  1803. 

"  Rev.  Sir, 

"  If,  in  the  purport  of  this  letter,  I  have  been  misled,  I  hope 
that  both  the  philanthropy  of  the  minister  and  the  dignity  of 
the  gentleman  will  conspire  to  apologize  for  this  intrusion.  I 
have  lately  seen  the  Anti-Jacobin  Review,  in  which  my  late 
publication  is  so  honourably  mentioned,  and  so  warmly  recom- 
mended to  public  notice  :  and  it  has  been  hinted  that  I  am  in- 
debted to  Mr.  Polwhele  for  tiie  iLiUering  animadversions  which 
it  has  undergone.  To  pass  by  any  mark  of  attention  from  a 
superior  without  an  rutknowledgment  of  the  obligation  is  al- 
ways more  troublesome  to  me  than  an  expression  of  gratitude. 
Be  pleased,  therefore,  reverend  sir,  to  accept  my  warm  and 
grateful  acknowledgment  of  the  favour  you  have  conferred 
on  me. 

"To  surmount  those  prejudices  which  local  differences 
miglit  have  occasioned  is  certainly  a  distinguishing  feature  of 
an  exalted  mind.  It  is  not  in  my  power  to  make  a  suitable  re- 
quital of  the  service  y()U  have  done  me  ;  but  it  is  the  want  of 
opportunity  which  can  alone  prevent  you  from  knowing,  that 
generous  actions  are  not  exclusively  confined  to  exalted  sta- 
tions. Circumstanced  as  I  am,  I  can  only  acknowledge  my 
sensibility  of  your  favours ;  and  I  beg  your  acceptance  of  that 
acknowledgment  from  one  who  has  nothing  but  gratitude  to 
bestow. 

"Should  the  present  letter  be  misapplied,  I  flatter  myself 
you  will  impute  it  to  no  improper  motive ;  and,  in  the  con- 
fidence of  that  persuasion,  I  subscribe  myself,  with  gratitude, 
"  Your  much  obliged  and  humble  servant, 

"Samuel  Drew. 

"  To  the  Rev.  R.  Polu-Me:' 


108 


LIFE  OF  SAMUEL  DREW. 


To  this  letter  Mr.  Polwhele  thus  replied : 

"  Manaccan,  March  5th,  1803. 

"  It  often  happens,  sir,  that  they  who  are  placed  in  respon- 
sible situations  are  charged  with  inconsistejicy,  from  no  other 
cause  than  their  strict  adherence  to  principle — to  what,  indeed, 
may  be  called  abstract  principle.  For,  not  regarding  the  con- 
nections of  society,  they  act  according  to  predetermined  rules; 
and  thus  their  public  censures  nuiy  not  be  reconcileable  with  the 
civilities  that  intervene,  nor  their  public  praise  with  past  hos- 
tilities. Such  a  scheme  of  conduct  may,  in  some  cases,  be  too 
refined  :  but  of  its  general  outline  a  Keviewer,  I  think,  should 
never  lose  sight.  For  my  own  part,  I  can  truly  say,  that  in 
this  character  I  have  always  acted  conscientiously.  I  have 
not  suffered  myself  to  be  influenced  by  personal  or  local  con- 
siderations. My  report  of  your  book  was  impartial :  so,  many 
years  since,  was  that  of  Dr.  Hawker's.  With  respect  to  your 
excellent  performance,  I  was  induced  to  review  it  from  the 
recollection  that  Mr.  Whitaker,  wlio  would  probably  take  care 
of  you  in  tlie  British  Critic,  made  it  a  point  never  to  criticise 
the  same  book  for  two  different  Reviews.  The  Anti-Jacobin, 
therefore,  remained  for  me  ;  and  I  considered  that  the  early 
notice  of  your  publication  might  be  doing  you  a  service,  to 
which  its  merits  luul  an  imperious  claim. 

"  With  tiie  sinccrcst  wishes  for  your  welfare,  both  on  this 
earth  and  in  that  world  to  which  you  open  to  us  such  an  ani- 
mating prospect,  I  remaia 

"  Your  faithful 

"  K.  Polwhele. 

"  To  Mr.  Samuel  Drew,  St.  AustelV 

A  few  weeks  after  the  publication  of  his  Essay,  and  conse- 
quently before  the  appearance  of  any  public  criticism,  Mr. 
Drew  received  from  Mr.  Kicliard  Edwards,  then  a  bookseller 
in  Bristol,  a  proposal  to  purchase  tiie  copyright,  and  was  re- 
quested to  name  his  terms.  Twenty  Pounds,  and  thirty 
copies  of  tlie  new  edition,  was  the  total  of  his  demand, — a 
proof  that  he  did  not  then  estimate  his  literary  labour  at  a  very 
high  rate.    On  these  conditions  the  bargain  was  ratified. 

Through  the  valuable  suggestions  of  the  late  Rev.  Tiiomas 
Roberts,  Mr.  Drew  introduced  many  improvements  into  his 
second  edition,  and  antici[)ated  some  ol)jections  to  which  the 
first  was  open.  Other  alterations  he  subsequently  discovered 
to  be  necessary.    Alluding  to  these  changes,  when  writing  to 


ESSAY   ON  THE  SOUL. 


109 


a  gentleman  who  several  years  afterward  lent  his  critical  as- 
sistance in  preparing  another  edition  for  the  press,  he  thus 
observes : — 

"Though,  prior  to  its  publication,  I  submitted  the  MS.  of  my 
Essay  to  my  much  lamented  friend,  the  Kev.  John  Whitaker, 
he  suggested  no  improvements,  he  made  no  remarks ;  he  did 
not  even  hint  the  propriety  of  dividing  the  work  into  chapters 
and  sections,  as  it  now  appears  ;  so  that  the  first  edition  had  no 
other  division  than  the  two  parts  which  separate '  Immateriality' 
from  '  Immortality.'  He,  iiowever,  gave  me  his  name  in 
writing,  with  his  avowed  opinion  of  my  MS.,  and  authorized  me 
to  use  it  whenever  I  thought  it  would  give  me  access  to  any 
subscriber.  The  service  whicli  he  thus  rendered  me  I  hope  I 
shall  never  forget. 

"  When  tliis  Essay  was  about  to  undergo  a  second  edition, 
a  friend  from  Bristol  suggested  to  me  the  utility  of  dividing  the 
work  into  chapters  and  sections.  Tliis,  for  some  time,  1  hesi- 
tated to  do,  from  a  foolish  notion  that  it  would  be  an  assump- 
tion that  could  not  be  detached  from  arrogance  ;  and  though  it 
was  at  last  done,  the  work  was  republished  before  I  had  time 
to  reflect  on  the  import  and  bearing  of  its  various  passages. 
In  short,  I  no  more  thought  that  it  would  ever  have  gained  celeb- 
rity in  the  literary  world,  than  I  now  dream  of  being  made  a 
doctor  of  divinity.  I  applied,  indeed,  to  several  of  my  friends 
whom  I  thought  capable  of  entering  into  the  subject ;  but  not 
one  could  or  would  impart  the  information  I  both  solicited 
and  wanted.  Notwithstanding  the  numerous  acquaintances  to 
whom  I  was  soon  introduced,  every  one  almost  wanted  me  to 
solve  difficulties,  to  answer  questions  ;  but  none  could  1  find 
who  would  attempt  to  meet  my  inquiries,  or  correct  my  views  ; 
and  I  began  to  conclude,  that,  in  point  of  assistance,  I  was 
'  out  of  humanity's  reach,  to  finish  my  journey  alone.' " 

The  following  letters  show  the  friendly  intercourse  between 
Mr.  Drew  and  Mr.  Briiton,  and  the  kind  interest  which  the 
latter  took  in  Mr.  D.'s  welfare. 

"  To  Mr.  Samuel  Drew,  St.  Austell. 

"  My  dear  Sir, 
"I  have  received  your  two  long  letters,  and  feel  much 
obliged  to  you  for  the  information  they  contain,  and  the 
trouble  you  have  taken  to  oblige  me.    This  day  I  have 
also  received  four  of  your  books,  and  shall  give  them  to  some 
K 


110 


IIFE  OF  SAMUEL  DREW. 


of  my  friends  for  reviewing,  and  doubt  not  but  most  of  them 
will  treat  you  as  you  deserve — by  giving  a  high  character  of 
the  work.  For  myself,  I  can  sincerely  say,  it  has  pleased,  in- 
structed, and  surprised  me.  You  have  a  mind  that  should  be 
employed  on  somelliing  for  tl\e  head  instead  of  the  heds.  But 
many  great  men  have  been  doomed  to  employ  their  hands  for 
a  livelihood,  when  their  heads  would  have  obtained  them  a 
fortune,  if  they  had  been  placed  in  an  advantageous  situation  : 
— may  you  soon  acquire  this  advantageous  station.  I  am 
sorry  you  sold  the  copyright  of  y9ur  book  to  a  country  book- 
seller ;  for  I  had  been  planning  a  scheme  calculated  to  be  more 
advantageous  and  important  to  you ;  but  it  is  now  too  late. . 
Should  you  have  any  thing  else  in  embryo,  let  me  know,  if  you 
think  me  worthy  your  contidencc.  If  I  cannot  do  wonders  for 
you,  I  will  endeavour  to  promote  your  fame  and  profit  in  some 
degree. 

"  Your  letters  on  the  Cornisii  Tinners  have  given  much 
gratification  to  some  of  my  literary  friends — and  those  high  in 
'  fame's  fair  temple.'  Pray  continue  them — they  will  be  ser- 
viceable and  pleasant  to  me,  and  1  think  they  will  prove  ulti- 
mately useful  to  you. 

'  "  But  what  I  wish  from  you ^rst  (and  I  hope  you  will  com- 
ply with  my  wishes,  as  they  originate  in  a  desire  to  serve  you) 
is  some  anecdotes  of  your  life — your  studies,  pursuits,  and  early 
modes  of  thinking, — and  a  short  history  of  your groroing  mind. 
I  want  to  pay  a  tribute  to  genius,  and  illustrate  some  proposi- 
tions by  living  facts.  Two  sons  of  Crispin  have  obtained 
great  fame  and  some  fortune  by  stretching  their  faculties;  and 
it  is  nobly  proved  that  academic  instruction  is  not  absolutely 
necessary  to  call  forth  the  genius  of  a  Giflbrd,  a  Bloomfield, 
and  a  Drew — three  shoemakers.  I  presume  you  /,now  one  of 
them,  and  are  not  totally  unacquainted  with  the  other  two. 

"  Have  you  seen  '  Giffbrd's  Translation  of  Juvenal's  Satires  V 
■ — Did  you  ever  see  '  The  Mine,'  a  poem  1- — Have  you  seen  the 
'  Farmer's  Boy,'  by  Bloomfield  ? 

"  Let  me  hear  from  you  soon,  and  believe  me 

"  Yours  sincerely, 

"  J.  Britton. 

"  London,  February  22d,  1803." 

"St.  Austell,  .March  12,  1803. 

"Dfar  Sir, 

"  I  wrote  you  some  short  time  since,  by  post,  a  long 
letter,  which,  I  hope,  came  safely  to  hand.    In  compliance 


ESSAY   ON  THE  SOUL. 


Ill 


with  3'our  request,  I  endeavoured,  in  that  letter,  to  give  you  a 
few  outlines  of  my  life  ;  I  doubt  not  that  it  has  excited  your 
smiles,  but  I  flatter  myself,  if  I  know  Mr.  Brillon,  they  are  not 
the  smiles  of  hanghty  contempt,  but  of  sympathetic  feeling. 

"It  happens,  very  opportunely,  that  this  letter  will  approach 
you  free  of  all  expense  ;  and  I  feel  an  unwillingness  to  let  slip 
the  opportunity,  even  though  I  embrace  it  to  tell  you  I  have 
nothing,  particular  to  say.  Mr.  Grant,  who  brings  you  this,  is 
well  acquainted  with  me,  and  perhaps  can  give  you  any  little 
information  respecting  my  situation  and  mode  of  life.  It  is  to 
his  brother  (who  is  a  surgeon)  that  I  owe  my  commencement 
of  authorship.  It  was  to  combat  the  principles  which  he  had 
adopted  that  I  made  remarks  on  '  the  Age  of  Reason,'  and 
afterward  published  them  to  the  world. 

"  You  ask  me,  'Did  you  ever  see  Bloomfield's  Farmer's  Boy?' 
I  have,  and  admire  it  much,  for  that  artless  simplicity  which 
runs  through  the  whole.  I  felt  its  force,  from  a  congeniality 
of  soul,  and  from  the  knowledge  which  I  have  of  rural  life  in 
the  most  servile  stations.  Mr.  Gilford's  publication  I  have 
never  seen.  I  have  repeatedly  heard  his  name,  but  never 
heard  that  he  had  written  any  thing,  unless  it  be  the  reply  to 
Mr.  Erskine.  That  I  have  never  read,  nor  do  I  know  whether 
it  be  the  same  Mr.  Gilford  or  not.  I  need  not  say  to  you  how 
remote  the  situation  of  Cornwall  is  from  the  seat  of  science 
and  learning.  We  know  little  of  the  scenes  which  are  exhib- 
ited on  the  great  theatre  of  life.  In  this  remote  corner,  and  in 
the  humble  vale  of  obscure  life,  the  rays  of  intelligence  are  few 
indeed. 

***** 
"  I  hope  when  the  reviewers  give  their  opinion  on  my  Essay, 
you  will  write  to  me  ;  without  your  information,  it  is  probable 
I  shall  never  know  what  they  say.    You  see  I  have  but  barely 
room  to  call  myself  your  friend, 

"  Samuel  Drew. 
"  I  am  now  writing  on  a  piece  of  leather,  and  have  no  time 
to  copy  or  correct. 

«'  To  Mr.  John  Britton,  London." 

A  letter  from  Mr.  Edwards  to  Mr.  Drew,  of  May,  1803, 
gives  the  earliest  intimation  that  the  attention  of  the  late  Dr. 
Clarke  had  been  drawn  to  Mr.  Drew's  writings.  "  The 
editors,"  he  says,  "  of  the  European  Magazine  have  spoken 
very  well  of  the  work  and  of  its  author ;  and  several  sensible 
men  in  Londen  who  have  read  it  think  highly  of  it,    I  learn 


112 


LIFE  OF  SAMUEL  PREW. 


from  Mr.  Britton,  that  the  Monthly  Miri-or,  Gentleman's  Mag- 
azine, Critical  Review,  and  British  Critic  intend  noticing  il : 
and,  as  lie  thinks,  will  give  it  a  good  character.  My  particular 
friend  Adam  Clarke  lias  promised  me  to  read  your  book  with 
critical  accuracy,  and  to  write  me  his  sentiments  on  it.  He 
has  a  high  opinion  of  you  and  your  abilities." 

The  "  Essay  on  the  Soul,"  the  copyright  of  which  Mr.  Drew 
had  disposed  of  on  the  Icrnis  just  named,  and  vvliicii,  before  its 
first  appearance,  a  Cornisii  bookseller  had  refused  at  the  price 
of  ten  pounds,  after  passing  llnough  four  editions  in  England, 
two  in  America,  and  being  translated  and  printed  in  France,  at 
the  end  of  tweniy-eight  years  became  again  his  property.  He 
then  gave  it  a  final  revision,  added  mucli  important  matter,  and 
sold  it  a  second  lime  to  Messrs.  Fisher  <fe  Co.,  Newgale- 
street,  London,  for  two  hundred  and  fifty  pounds. 


SECTION  XIV. 

Extension  of  Mr.  Drew's  literary  acquaintance — He  commences  hi» 
Essay  on  the  Identity  and  Resurrection  of  the  Human  Body. 

Mr.  Drew  was  now  become  an  author  of  established  repu- 
tation. In  many  of  the  literary  journals  his  Essay  on  the  Soul 
had  received  unqualified  praise ;  and  this  praise  he  felt  to  be 
an  incitement  to  further  exertion.  His  friends  thought  that  he 
had  parted  with  the  copyright  of  his  book  upon  too  easy  terms. 
Influenced  by  tiieir  opinions,  he  was  at  first  disposed  to  think 
as  they  did  ;  but,  on  viewing  the  subject  in  all  its  bearings,  he 
felt  perfectly  satisfied  with  the  bargain  he  had  made.  Un- 
doubtedly, after  the  favourable  criticisms  on  the  work  had  ap- 
peared, he  might  have  taken  it  to  a  better  market ;  but  both 
buyer  and  seller  had  made  a  contract  in  ignorance  of  this,  and 
as  a  matter  of  speculation.  To  the  promptitude  of  Mr.  Ed- 
wards in  getting  the  book  reprinted  by  the  time  public  curiosity 
was  awakened  beyond  the  boundaries  of  Cornwall,  Mr.  Drew 
thought  himself  indebted  for  many  of  the  courteous  attentions 
which  were  bestowed  upon  him  by  strangers  and  persons 
of  elevated  station.    He  had  already  obtained  the  notice  of 


LITERARY  ACQUAINTANCES. 


113 


several  literary  gentlemen  :  a  door  was  now  opened  for  the 
extension  of  such  acquaintance. 

In  a  former  age,  "  a  prophet  was  not  without  honour,  save 
in  his  own  country,  and  in  his  own  house."  Mr.  Drew's  frank 
disposition,  upright  character,  and  acknowledged  talents  pro- 
cured him  the  favourable  notice  and  kind  offices,  not  only  of 
persons  at  a  distance,  but  of  those  in  his  immediate  neighbour- 
hood. A  short  letter,  now  before  the  writer,  shows  the  senti- 
ments of  a  gentleman  (then  well  known  in  Cornwall),  who,  as 
a  resident  in  the  same  town  with  JMr.  Drew,  was  enabled  to 
scrutinize  his  conduct. 

"  To  Mr.  Samuel  Drew. 

"  St.  Austell,  24th  March,  1803. 

"  Sir, 

"  When  I  returned  from  Menabilly,  this  evening,  I  received 
your  favour,  with  the  second  edition  of  your  late  work,  for 
which  I  return  you  many  thanks.  The  additions  and  altera- 
tions to  this  book  are  really  great  improvements,  and  must,  I 
think,  give  very  general  satisfaction.  If  my  good  opinion  of 
you,  and  recommendation  of  your  publication,  have  been  of  any 
service,  I  am  very  glad  of  it ;  but  I  do  not  think  it  entitled  me 
to  the  copy  you  have  sent.  I  certainly  thought  your  answer 
to  Tom  Paine  the  best  I  had  read ;  and,  as  a  justice  due  to 
your  conduct  and  character,  you  had  (and  have)  my  best 
wishes ;  being  truly, 

»  Sir, 

"  Your  friend  and  humble  servant, 

"  Chas.  Rashleigh." 

It  would  be  easy  to  mention  other  distinguished  individuals 
from  whom  Mr.  Drew  received  repeated  proofs  of  esteem  and 
good-will ;  but  the  enumeration  might  appear  ostentatious. 
We  however  venture  to  particularize  one,  not  unknown  in 
political  life,  but  still  more  conspicuous  in  the  annals  of  science, 
who,  about  this  time,  honoured  Mr.  Drew  with  his  friendship 
and  correspondence.  He  had  known  Mr.  D.'s  name  from  his 
writings  :  the  incident  which  led  to  a  more  intimate  acquaint- 
ance may  interest  the  reader. 

In  the  village  of  Tywardreath,  mentioned  in  an  earlier  part 
of  this  volume,  Mrs.  Kingdon,  Mr.  Drew's  sister,  resides  ; — her 
husband  being  engaged  in  business  as  a  shoemaker.  During 
K  2 


114 


LIFE  OF  SAMUEL  DREW. 


a  long  and  heavy  summer  shower,  a  person  on  horseback,  of 
plain  but  genteel  appearance,  stopped  at  her  door,  and  begged 
for  shelter.  She  offered  him  the  best  refreshment  in  her 
house ;  but  he  would  only  take  tea  with  the  family.  Tliey 
found  him  intelligent,  though  unassuming  ;  and  he  seemed  quite 
at  home.  AVliile  his  clothes  were  drying,  he  went  into  the 
workshop,  and  made  such  minute  inquiries  about  the  business, 
and  showed  so  accurate  an  acquaintance  witli  its  details,  that 
it  was  concluded  he  must  be  either  a  shoemaker  or  a  dealer  in 
leather.  In  the  kitchen  he  was  no  less  inquisitive.  The 
stranger  appearing  to  know  every  thing,  one  of  the  workmen, 
who,  emulous  of  Mr.  Drew's  fame,  had  been  puzzling  himself 
about  Greek  and  Mathematics,  ventured  to  propose  some  ques- 
tions— thinking  it  possible  that  he  might  get  a  solution  of  his 
difficulties  from  tliis  unexpected  quarter.  'J'o  the  surjirise  of 
all,  the  gentleman  entered  upon  these  topics  as  matters  in  which 
lie  was  profoundly  skilled,  and  gave  the  inquirer,  not  only  the 
desired  information,  but  a  great  deal  more.  Some  one  ex- 
pressing admiration  at  his  extensive  acquirements,  he  said,  "I 
know  a  little — perhaps  more  than  some  of  my  neighbours — 
and  yet  I  was  never  at  school  in  my  life."  The  weather 
clearing,  he  took  up  a  slate  which  was  at  hand,  wrote  on  it,  and 
with  many  thanks  for  their  kind  treatment,  took  iiis  leave. 

Upon  liis  departure,  the  question  arose,  "Who  can  the 
stranger  be?"  After  various  conjectures,  it  was  proposed  to 
examine  the  slate,  and  upon  it  was  found  written,  "  Davies 
Giddy."  The  gentleman  had  given  them  to  understand  that 
he  came  from  the  western  part  of  the  county.  A  neighbour 
from  that  district,  whose  opinion  was  solicited,  said  that  he 
had  heard  of  a  "  Justice  Giddy"  in  the  west :  but  the  majority 
agreed,  that  such  a  plain,  unassuming,  familiar  person  as  the 
stranger  could  not  be  z  justice.  Mrs.  Kingdon,  however,  con- 
trasting his  learning  with  his  statement  that  "he  had  never 
been  at  school,"  was  convinced  that  he  must  be  a  gentleman 
who  had  received  a  private  education  ;  and  from  tliis  and  other 
particulars  occurring  to  her  recollection,  she  thought  it  possible 
that  her  late  guest,  homely  and  affable  as  he  appeared,  might 
be  "  .lustice  (Jiddy." 

After  a  few  days  the  gentleman  again  called,  on  his  return 
from  the  eastward,  and  gave  his  address.  Mrs.  Kingdon  apolo- 
gized for  the  unceremonious  manner  in  which  she  and  her 
family  had  questioned  and  conversed  with  him,  not  knowing — 
what  they  had  since  suspected — that  he  was  so  much  above 
them  in  rank.    To  this  he  replied,  that  it  had  given  him  great 


LITERARY  ACQUAINTANCES. 


115 


pleasure  to  be  so  frankly  and  hospitably  entertained  ;  End  so  far 
was  their  familiar  treatment  from  being  offensive,  that  nothing 
would  be  more  agreeable  to  him  tlian  its  continuance.  He 
then  inquired  very  minutely  about  her  family  and  connections, 
especially  her  brother,  and  noted  down  her  replies.  "I  am 
not  ignorant,"  he  observed,  "of  your  brother's  name  ;  for  1  have 
read  his  writings:  but  it  gives  me  much  pleasure  to  hear  his 
private  character  spoken  so  highly  of  by  one  who  knows  him 
so  well ;  and  I  shall  endeavour  to  cultivate  his  acquaintance." 
In  this  gentleman  the  reader  will  recognise  Davies  Gilbert, 
Esq.,  late  Member  of  Parliament  for  Bodmin,  and  successor  of 
Sir  Humphrey  Davy  (also  a  Cornishman)  as  President  of  the 
Royal  Society, 

Through  his  intimacy  with  Mr.  Whitaker,  Mr.  Drew,  in  the 
year  1803,  became  acquainted  with  another  learned  clergyman, 
the  Rev.  VVm.Gregor,  Rector  of  Creed,  in  Cornwall ;  in  whose 
judicious  and  friendly  counsel  he  found  a  substitute  for  that  of 
his  kind  patron  Mr.  Whitaker,  when  the  latter  was  called  into 
eternity.  A  literary  correspondence  was  also  begun,  which 
terminated  only  with  Mr.  Gregor's  lamented  death  in  1817. 
To  the  libraries  of  Mr.  Whitaker,  Mr.  Gregor,  the  Rev.  Dr. 
I/yne,  and  other  literary  gentlemen,  he  had  free  access,  and  at 
their  houses  was  always  an  acceptable  and  esteemed  visiter. 

At  the  urgent  request  of  his  friend  Mr.  Britton,  Mr.  Drew, 
as  intimated  in  one  of  his  letters,  drew  up  a  brief  outline  of  his 
life,  which,  we  believe,  was  publisiied  in  some  of  the  periodi- 
cals of  1803.  In  the  early  part  of  the  same  year,  Mr.  Pol- 
whele,  who  was  then  preparing  for  the  press  his  "  Literature 
and  Literary  Characters  of  Cornwall,"  not  aware  of  Mr. 
Britton's  intention,  made  a  similar  request.  Independently  of 
the  compliment  Uius  paid  him,  he  felt  himself  under  too  great 
an  obligation  to  Mr.  Polwhele  to  hesitate  about  compliance; 
and  accordingly  furnished  this  gentleman  with  the  very  pleas- 
ing sketch  which  appears  in  his  work.* 

*  Some  individuals,  who  either  knew  little  of  Mr.  Drew,  or  thought 
nothing  could  be  good  that  had  not  llie  imprimatur  of  Methodism  on  its 
litie-page,  were  very  liberal  in  their  cen.sures,  because,  in  the  narratives  of 
his  life  which  he  gave  the  world,  no  nienlion  was  made  of  his  connection 
with  the  Methodist  society.  Such  persons  should  remember  that  his 
auto-biographical  sketches  were  prepared  at  the  request  of  gentlemen  who 
wanted  only  the  history  of  his  literary  life  and  "growing  mind."  No  one 
can  imagine,  that,  after  coming  forward  in  opposition  to  Mr.  PoKvhelo,  as 
the  public  and  uncompromising  champion  of  Methodism,  he  shrank  from 
an  avowal  of  his  membership  ;  and  no  one,  who  recollects  how  frequently 


116 


LIFE  OF  SAMUEL  DREW. 


His  lowly  origin  and  humble  situation  being  thus  made  pub- 
lic, the  singular  contrast  which  it  presented  to  his  growing 
literary  fame  attracted  much  attention.  St.  Austell  became 
noted  as  tlie  birth-place  and  residence  of  Mr.  Drew  ;  and 
strangers  coming  into  the  county  for  the  gratification  of  their 
curiosity  did  not  consider  that  object  accomplished  until  they 
had  visited  or  seen  "  the  metaphysical  shoemaker."  Many 
were  the  calls  which  he  received  from  such  individuals.  How- 
ever flattering  this  might  be  to  an  ordinary  mind,  he  once 
observed,  when  congratulated  by  a  friend  on  his  popularity, 
"These  gentlemen  certainly  honour  me  by  their  visits;  but  I 
do  not  forget,  that  many  of  them  merely  wish  to  say  that  they 
have  seen  the  cobbler  who  wrote  a  book." 

All  his  visiters  were  not  of  this  description.  There  were 
among  them  men  of  kindred  minds,  who  sought  his  conversa- 
tion for  the  pleasure  it  afibrded  ;  and  there  were  others,  of  high 
station,  who  to  personal  gratification  added  the  generous  wish 
of  drawing  forth  merit  from  obscurity.  Of  this  class  was  the 
Very  Rev.  George  Moore,  Archdeacon  of  Cornwall.  In  the 
course  of  his  yearly  visitation,  he  called,  with  his  daughter, 
upon  Mr.  Drew;  and  a  considerable  time  was  spent  in  each 
other's  company,  with  mutual  satisfaction.  Some  particulars 
of  this  visit  may  be  gathered  from  the  following  long  and 
friendly  epistle  of  Mr.  Whitaker's.  One  of  the  consequences 
to  Mr.  Drew  resulting  from  it,  we  shall  have  occasion  to  state 
hereafter. 

"  To  Mr.  Samuel  Drew,  shoemaker.,  St.  Austell. 
'•Dear  Sir, 

"Your  letter  concerning  the  archdeacon's  visit  to  you 
has  given  me  much  pleasure.  You  too  gratefully  attribute 
it  to  me.  But  you  ought  to  attribute  it  principally,  if  not 
wholly,  to  your  own  exertions.  What  I  did  was  more  to  im- 
bolden  you  than  to  gain  you  favour.  Perhaps  if  you  had  not 
been  so  imboldened,  you  might  not  have  published.  Perhaps, 
too,  if  you  had  published,  you  might  not  have  gained  so  high  a 
reputation  so  suddenly,  if  you  had  not  been  known  to  have  been 

Mr.  Drew  occupied  the  pulpits  of  various  chapels  in  Cornwall,  can  rea- 
sonably suppose  such  an  avowal  necessary.  Had  he  been  spared  to  fulfil 
his  intention  of  writing  a  complete  memoir  of  his  life,  his  conversion  to 
God  and  connection  with  the  Methodists  would  have  occupied  a  con- 
Bpicuous  place.  We  may  regret,  but  vvc  ought  not  to  repine,  that,  as  & 
friend  once  predicted,  he  has  left  this  task  to  his  biographer. 


LITERARY  ACQUAINTANCES. 


117 


so  imboldened.  Yet,  after  both  these  allowances,  I  must  say, 
you  owe  the  notice  that  has  been  taken  of  you  personally,  and 
the  compliments  that  have  been  paid  to  you  as  an  author, 
principally  to  your  own  clear,  close,  and  compact  form  of  rea- 
soning. And  I  feel  very  happy  in  having  been  oneof  ilie  first 
to  know  you ;  to  encourage  you  in  your  undertakings ;  and, 
perhaps,  to  gain  you  what  alone  you  wanted,  a  fair  introduc- 
tion into  the  world  of  readers. 

"  I  did  not  go  this  year  to  the  Visitation.  Yet  I  wished  to 
go,  in  order  to  converse  with  the  archdeacon,  who  is  the 
best  scholar  that  I  meet  in  all  the  west  ;  and  to  talk  with  his 
daugliter,  whom  1  used  to  call  my  sister-antiquary,  as  having 
formerly  endeavoured  to  furnish  me  with  some  antiquarian  no- 
tices. If  I  had  gone,  his  call  upon  you,  with  his  daughter,  I 
should  have  then  heard  from  his  own  mouth.  From  your  pen, 
however,  it  gives  me  most  pleasure,  as  telling  me  the  arch- 
deacon's conduct  in  full  form.  On  tiie  whole,  I  felt,  and  still 
feel,  equally  surprised  and  delighted  with  it.  The  archdeacon 
is  one,  I  apprehend,  mucli  afraid  of  ihe  very  imputation  of 
Methodism.  He  has  therefore  shown  the  more  courage  in 
visiting  you  ;  and  he  will  continue  to  call  upon  you,  you  may 
be  sure,  every  year,  as  he  promised. 

"  I  cor  dially  share  with  you  in  this,  and  every  other  respect 
shown  to  you.  But  did  not  you  touch  too  near  the  quick,  when 
you  asked  him  whether  he  had  seen  your  pamphlet  against  Mr. 
Polwhele?  In  that  controversy,  I  take  it  for  granted,  though  I 
recollect  no  evidence,  that  he  was  against  you ;  and  with  a 
wary  wisdom  he  now  turned  the  subject  dexterously  aside. 
Men  not  particularly  marked  with  religion  are  always  shrink- 
ing with  terror  from  the  approacli  of  Alelhodism.  The  world, 
too,  in  its  zeal  against  religion,  is  always  taxing  any  appear- 
ances of  religiousness  above  the  common  standard  as  Metho- 
dism. And  thus  religion,  like  a  snail,  is  always  retiring,  upon 
any  hand's  approach,  into  the  privacy  of  its  shell. 

***** 

'"I  have  been  crudely  revolving  in  my  mind,'  you  say, 
•  another  important  subject,  the  resurrection  of  thehuman  body.' 
This  is  an  important  one.  '  But  whether  I  shall  ever  find  lei- 
sure,' you  add,  '  to  accomplish  my  design,  is  with  me  a  matter 
of  considerable  doubt.'  The  sooner  you  begin,  the  speedier 
you  will  finish.  And  remember,  we  must  crowd  our  narrow 
space  of  life  with  as  much  exertion  of  good  as  ever  we  can. 
Then  our  works  will  follow  us  in  full  tale  ;  and  I  doubt  not 
but  your  works  and  mine  will  be  republished  in  heaven,  to 


118 


LIFE  OF  SAMUEI.  DREW. 


show  angels  and  men  what  we  did  m  our  very  infancy.  You 
ask  me,  however,  '  What  lliiiik  you  of  my  subject?  Does  it 
admit  of  any  rational  proof,  or  must  we  solely  rely  on  Revela- 
tion for  all  our  knowledge  of  the  fact?  This  is  a  subject,  I 
must  own,  on  whi<:li  I  have  never  thought  at  all.  All  I  can  say 
at  present  is,  therefore,  this  merely — that  unassisted  reason,  or 
(what  is  not  strictly  the  same,  as  the  use  of  sacrifices,  so  un- 
accountable without  a  f  dl  supposed,  clearly  proves)  the  reason 
of  tlie  heathen  world,  did  never  pretend  to  believe  a  resurrec- 
tion. Indeed,  the  burning  of  bodies  seemed  peculiarly  calcu- 
lated to  extinguish  all  possibility  of  a  resurrection.  The  sep- 
ulture  of  bodies,  to  be  sure,  carried  the  same  conviction  to  the 
mind  ;  j-ct  tliis  conviction  was  seldom  carried  to  the  mind 
through  the  eye ; — it  therefore  operated  with  less  efficacy. 
The  burning  spoke  to  all  the  senses  at  once.  I  do  not  wonder, 
therefore,  that  the  heathens  never  supposed,  when  the  gospel 
was  published,  the  possibility  of  a  resurrection.  And  you  will 
have  the  higher  honour,  if,  even  with  the  lamp  of  Revelation 
hanc;ing  over  your  head,  yet  with  the  torch  of  reason  held  in 
your  hand,  you  can  show  even  the  jirobabiliiy  alone  of  a 
resurrection. 

"  '  It  is  on  your  judgment,'  you  add,  'I  have  relied  for  the 
past,  and  to  Mr.  Whitaker  I  shall  appeal  for  the  future.'  I 
shall  always  be  happy  to  render  you  any  services.  But  the 
difficulty  increases  with  your  success  ;  and  the  danger  results 
from  your  very  victory.  You  must  remember,  too,  that  at  pres- 
ent my  mind  is  much  more  conversant  with  antiquarian  rea- 
soning than  with  abstract,  and  that  I  am  thinking  more  of 
Roman  remains  in  Britain  than  of  human  remains  again  uniting 
into  the  same  body. 

"  With  my  warmest  wishes  for  your  welfare  here  and  here- 
after, 

"  I  remain 

"  Your  friend  and  servant,  affectionately, 

"John  Whitaker. 

"Wednesday,  July  19,  1803." 

The  preceding  letter  affords  the  earliest  intimation  we  have 
that  the  identity  and  resurrection  of  the  human  body  had  begun 
to  occupy  Mr.  Drew's  thoughts.  His  mind  could  not  remain 
in  a  state  of  inactivity.  Having  completed  the  revision  of  his 
first  essay,  a  fit  subject  for  a  second  speedily  presented  itself. 
The  transfer  of  his  attention  from  the  nature  of  the  soul  to 


RESURRECTION  OF  THE  BODY. 


119 


that  of  the  body,  and  his  manner  of  following  up  this  inquiry, 
he  thus  describes. 

"  The  favourable  manner  in  which  my  Essay  on  the  Soul 
was  received  stimulated  me,  in  no  small  degree,  to  make  new 
exertions  ;  while  the  subject  itself  almost  immediately  induced 
me  to  turn  my  thoughts  from  the  hujiian  soul  to  the  Ituman  bcdy. 
I  accordingly  began  to  contemplate  the  possibility  of  adducing 
some  rational  evidence  in  favour  of  the  general  resurrection. 
But  this  subject  I  soon  found  was  so  inseparably  connected 
with  that  of  personal  identity,  that,  without  investigating  the 
latter,  I  perceived  it  would  be  an  act  of  folly  to  attempt  the 
former.  This  circumstance  led  me  to  connect  them  together 
in  my  inquiry. 

"  In  the  complex  view  which  the  union  of  these  subjects 
presented,  I  saw,  or  thought  I  saw,  a  variety  of  sources  from 
which  arguments  might  be  drawn,  all  tending  in  one  direction, 
and  uniting  their  strength  to  authenticate  the  fact  which  I  wished 
to  establish.  These  thoughts  I  communicated  to  my  friend, 
w!io  pressed  me  with  tlie  utmost  earnestness  to  proceed  with 
the  inquiry,  whatever  the  issue  miglit  be.  At  the  same  time 
he  observed,  tliat  I  must  navigate  the  ocean  nearly  alone,  as  I 
had  no  reason  to  expect  much  assistance,  either  from  preceding 
or  contemporary  writers.  This  observation  I  have  since  found 
realized  by  fact.  Encouraged,  however,  by  his  advice,  rather 
than  deterred  by  his  remarks,  I  immediately  began  the  work, 
and  continued  to  pursue  it  through  difficulties  which  were  at 
once  inseparable  from  the  undertaking,  and  heightened  by  the 
disadvantages  of  my  situation. 

"A  train  of  circumstances  incident  to  human  life  occasion- 
ally retarded  my  progress  ;  so  that  the  period  of  its  completion 
baffled  the  calculations  which  I  had  previously  made.  Appli- 
cation, however,  succeeded  to  interruption,  and  perseverance 
finally  surmounted  all." 

Tlie  familiar  letter  which  follows,  from  Mr.  Drew  to  his 
friend  Mr.  Britton,  will  further  illustrate  this  period  of  his  life. 

"  St.  Austell,  September  19,  1803. 

"  Dear  Sir, 

"  I  have  been  for  some  time  revolving  in  my  mind  the  reason 
why  the  atmosphere  of  London  should  be  more  congenial  to 
forgeifulness  than  that  of  Cornwall.  Whether  the  insalubrity 
of  the  air — the  subjects  which  lay  an  embargo  on  attention — 
or  the  infinite  variety  of  objects  eclipsing  all  distant  considera- 
tions which  have  no  other  claim  than  abstract  friendship — be 


120 


riFE  OF  SAMUEL  DREW. 


the  cause,  or  causes,  I  am  at  a  loss  to  say.  Of  this  truth,  how- 
ever, I  am  in  full  possession — that  I  have  not  heard  from  you 
for  several  months.  Perhaps, 

'  O'er  them,  anil  o'er  their  names,  the  billows  dose  : 
To-morrow  knows  not  they  were  ever  born.' 

"  Since  I  wrote  you  last,  I  have  had  an  interview  with  Mr. 
Polwhele,  from  whom  I  received  very  polite  treatment.  He 
has  requested  me  to  furnish  him  vviih  some  memoirs  of  my  life, 
which  I  have  done.  I  keep  up  a  correspondence  with  Mr. 
Whitaker,  and  liave  lately  been  I'avoured  with  the  correspond- 
ence of  the  Archdeacon  of  Exeter,  wlio  has  promised  me  all 
the  assistance  in  his  power  to  promote  the  circulation  of  any 
future  publications  that  I  may  feel  inclined  to  send  into  the 
world. 

"In  consequence  of  the  numerous  testimonies  of  approba- 
tion which  I  have  received  from  gentlemen  of  the  tirst  respecta- 
bility, I  have  been  tempted  to  venture  on  another  important 
subject,  which  I  conceive  will  be  of  service  to  mankind. 
I  have  laid  the  foundation  of  a  treatise  on  the  Resur- 
rection of  the  Human  Body  from  the  grave,  and  have  collected 
a  mass  of  undigested  materials.  The  subject  is  abstruse,  and 
the  evidences  of  tiie  fact  are  of  an  obscure  and  peculiar  nature. 
Independently  of  revelation,  probability  is,  perhaps,  the  liigh- 
est  point  which  we  can  attain ;  but  this,  when  taken  into  con- 
nection with  the  Bible,  will  amount  to  the  highest  degree  of 
moral  certainty.  It  is  a  subject  on  which  few  have  written ; 
and  its  nature,  in  conjunction  with  the  few  who  have  ventured 
to  embark  upon  it,  will  make  me  very  scrupulous  in  submitting 
my  work  to  the  public  eye,  if  ever  I  have  time  to  complete  it. 
Without  the  approbation  of  Mr.  Whitaker  I  shall  not  presume 
to  send  it  into  the  world. 

"What  are  you  doing?  are  you  publishing  any  thing  new? 
Have  you  nearly  cotnpleted  your  present  work,  '  The  Beauties 
of  England  and  Wales  V  Mr.  Edwards,  the  printer  to  whom 
I  sold  or  gave  away  my  copyright,  is  removed  to  London,  but  I 
know  not  where  to  find  him.  I  have  been  informed  that  he  has 
made  a  good  hand  of  my  late  Essay.  I  hope  it  is  true.  I  shall 
not  repine  at  his  success;  for,  as  Shakspeare  says,  'He  is  well 
paid  who  is  well  satisfied.'    This  is  my  lot  and  situation. 

"  Life  with  us  furnishes  little  variety.  Things  go  on  in  the 
same  dull  round  in  which  they  have  moved  for  centuries. 


RESURRECTION  OF  THE  BODY. 


121 


Cocks  crow  !  Dogs  bark  !  CliilJren  cry  !  And  rain  and  sun- 
shine alternately  checker  life  ! 

'  So  glides  the  stream  of  human  life  away.' 

"  The  providence  of  God  has  blessed  me  and  my  family 
with  health  ;  and  we  enjoy  happiness  in  '  the  cool,  sequestered 
vale  of  life.'  What  can  the  wealth  of  both  the  Indies  do  more  ? 
But  something  always  will  be  wanting  to  complete  the  felicities 
of  life.  I  now  want  time  to  pursue  the  natural  bent  of  my 
inclinations ;  and  perhaps,  if  I  had  my  wish,  I  should  feel 
another,  more  troublesome  than  the  present. 

'Alps  still  behind  the  former  Alps  arise.' 

The  unsatisfied  nature  of  man  plainly  says,  that  happiness, 
genuine  happiness,  is  lodged  deep  in  futurity,  '  beyond  the  ken 
of  mortal  sight.' 

"  But  I  have  done.  It  is  rather  late,  and  I  grow  tired.  If 
you  can  find  a  few  moments  to  write  me,  it  will  afford  me  plea- 
sure to  rind  I  am  not  forgotten :  if  not,  I  am  content  with 
wishing  you  happiness  in  time  and  eternity. 

"May  God  bless  you.  Farewell. 

"  Samuel  Drew. 

"  To  Mr.  John  Britten,  London.'''' 

To  the  Rev.  William  Gregor,  whose  friendship  for  Mr.  Drew 
we  have  noticed,  he  also  communicated  his  intention  of  inves- 
tigating the  evidences  in  favour  of  the  resurrection  of  the  human 
body  ;  at  the  same  time  enumerating  some  works  which  he 
wished  to  read  before  he  conunenced  his  undertaking.  This 
gentleman  in  his  reply  remarks,  "I  am  glad  to  hear  that  you 
have  turned  your  attention  to  the  subject  you  mention.  I  should 
wish  to  see  your  own  original  and  natural  thoughts  upon  it, 
unbiased  by  what  others  may  have  said  before  you.  You  have 
peculiar  talents  and  turn  of  mind,  which  you  ought  not  to  suffer 
to  be  inactive.  You  are  called  upon  to  follow  your  natural 
bias,  when  you  may  do  it  with  credit  to  yourself,  and  utility  to 
others." 

Stimulated  and  encouraged  by  the  recommendations  and 
aluable  suggestions  of  his  literary  friends,  Mr.  Drew  applied 
himself  to  his  self-allotted  task.  His  previously  collected  m<i- 
terials  he  began  to  digest ;  and  committed  his  thoughts  to  wri- 
ing.  Before  the  summer  of  1804  was  ended,  he  had  made 
considerable  progress.    In  a  letter  to  Mr.  Whitaker,  as  q^uuicd 


122 


LIFE  OF  SAMUEL  DREW. 


by  that  gentleman  in  his  reply,  dated  October  24,  he  says,  "  I 
hope,  should  God  preserve  my  lii'e,  to  prosecute  my  work  with 
vigour  during  the  approaching  winter,  that  it  may  be  ready  for 
your  inspection  some  time  in  the  next  summer.  It  is  to  your  eyes 
that  it  shall  be  first  presented,  and  to  your  opinion  that  I  shall 
first  appeal ;  and  such  is  tlie  confidence  1  have  in  your  judg- 
ment, generosity,  and  candour,  that  it  will  be  only  with  your  con- 
currence that  I  shall  submit  it  to  any  further  appeal."  To  this 
Mr.  Whilaker  subjoins,  "  I  thank  you  for  the  compliment,  and 
will  engage  in  the  office.  I  have  too  great  a  regard  for  you,  not 
to  engage  in  any  offices  of  Iriendship  for  your  benefit." 

In  the  preface  to  his  Essay  on  the  Resurrection,  Mr.  Drew 
observes,  "  It  was  about  the  close  of  the  year  1805,  that  I  had 
in  my  own  estimation  completed  the  manuscript ;  and  I  fully 
expected  that  I  should  shortly  submit  it  to  the  inspection  of 
my  much  lamented  friend.  For  it  was  a  resolution  which  I 
had  previously  formed,  that  if  it  possessed  any  merit,  Mr. 
Whitaker  sliouid  have  the  lirst  opportunity  of  making  the  dis- 
covery of  it ;  and  if  it  had  noiliing  that  could  render  it  worthy 
of  preservation,  he  alone  should  witness  its  disgrace. 

"  But  here  an  unforeseen  and  unpleasant  difficulty  arose. 
Preparatory  fo  his  inspection  of  it,  I  proceeded  to  give  the 
whole  a  cool  and  dispassionate  perusal,  that  in  one  view  I 
might  take  an  impartial  survey  of  the  import  and  connection  of 
all  its  parts.  In  prosecuting  this  perusal,  I  had  the  mortifica- 
tion to  find  that  the  arrangements  were  bad, — that  my  thoughts 
appeared  confused, — and  that  in  many  places  the  chain  of  rea- 
soning had  been  broken  by  frivolous  digressions  and  imperti- 
nent reflections  : — that  in  some  places  the  arguments  were  de- 
fective ;  and  in  others,  those  which  were  good  in  themselves 
were  placed  in  an  inauspicious  light.  Ou  the  whole,  I  sunk 
down  into  a  kind  of  careless  apathy,  half  resolved  to  touch  it 
no  more." 

Having  conducted  the  reader  thus  far  in  the  account  of  this 
literary  undertaking,  we  advert  to  some  other  points  in  Mr. 
Drew's  personal  history. 


LECTURES  ON  GRAMMAR. 


123 


SECTION  XV. 

Mr.  Drew  delivers  lectures  on  English  grammar  and  geography — Com- 
mencement of  the  friendship  between  him  and  Dr.  Adam  Clarke — He 
is  elected  a  member  of  the  Manchester  Philological  Society — His  con- 
nection with  Dr.  Coke,  and  relinquishment  of  business. 

He  whose  cares  centre  in  himself  may  regard  with  indifference 
the  smiles  or  the  buffetiiigs  of  fortune.  Relying  on  his  fancied 
independence,  he  may  labour  awhile  to  secure  some  temporary 
gratification,  and  having  accomplished  his  object,  sit  down,  and 
fold  his  hands  in  idleness.  But  when  a  man  sustains  the  en- 
dearing relationship  of  husband  and  of  father, — when  he  knows 
that  upon  his  exertions  depend  the  comfort  and  happiness  of 
many  a  beloved  object, — he  feels  a  new  and  powerful  stimulus 
to  action. 

To  such  a  feeling  Mr.  Drew  was  not  a  stranger.  Of  him, 
indeed,  selfishness  or  misanthropy  could  never  be  predicated; 
but  those  kindly  sympathies  which,  before  his  marriage,  ex- 
tended to  the  whole  species  indiscriminately,  were  now,  without 
prejudice  to  the  claims  of  philanthropy,  directed  especially 
towards  his  rising  family.  He  saw  that  a  kind  Providence  was 
opening  before  him  a  passage  into  a  more  respectable  sphere 
than  he  had  yet  occupied  ;  and  he  believed  it  a  duty  to  himself 
and  his  dependants  to  tread  the  allotted  path,  and  embrace  the 
opportunities  presented,  of  employing  his  talents  profitably  to 
himself  and  usefully  to  others. 

Influenced  by  these  motives,  and  the  solicitation  of  his  neigh- 
bours, he  commenced,  with  the  year  1804,  a  course  of  lectures 
upon  English  grammar.  His  pupils  were  either  adults,  or 
young  persons  advanced  beyond  the  age  of  childhood.  These 
lectures,  which  occupied  about  two  hours,  were  delivered  on 
four  evenings  of  the  week ;  two  being  allotted  to  each  sex 
separately.  The  room  in  which  they  met  being  small,  each 
class  was  necessarily  limited  to  about  twelve  persons.  A  year 
completed  the  course  of  instruction  ;  and  for  this  thirty  shil- 
lings were  paid  by  every  pupil.  At  two  or  three  subsequent 
periods  he  delivered  similar  lectures,  to  which  geography  and 
the  outlines  of  astronomy  were  added,  as  a  supplementary 
course. 


124 


LIFE   OF  SAMUEL  DREW. 


Possessing  the  desirable  art  of  blending  amusement  with  in- 
struction, Mr.  Drew  rendered  his  seminary  a  place  of  enter- 
tainment. His  exhaustless  store  of  anecdote,  which  was 
frequently  drawn  upon  to  illustrate  or  enliven,  and  his  happy 
mode  of  explanation,  rendered  the  barren  study  of  grammar  so 
far  interesting,  that  unavoidable  absence  from  a  lecture  was 
deplored  as  a  misfortune.  Between  the  teacher  and  his  pupils 
a  mutual  attachment  subsisted,  which,  in  after-years,  when 
these  had  become  heads  of  families,  c(uiferred  upon  him  a 
patriarchal  character. 

In  a  letter  to  a  gentleman  who,  at  a  later  period,  wished  to 
place  a  son  under  his  charge,  Mr.  Drew  thus  explains  his  views, 
and  his  method  of  tuition:  —  "!  have  my  fears  whether  your 
son  be  not  too  young  to  see  the  value  of  tliat  knowledge  which 
might  be  imparted  to  him ;  and  whether  he  will  not,  conse- 
quently, be  apt  to  forget  what  he  learns.  The  human  intellect, 
undoubtedly,  begins  to  unfold  itself  at  a  much  earlier  period  in 
some  than  in  others  ;  but,  generally  speaking,  from  fourteen  to 
twenty-four  is  the  most  favourable  tide  of  life.  I  have,  at  dif- 
ferent times,  had  youth  of  both  sexes  under  my  care,  to  whom  I 
have  taught  the  rudiments  of  grammar  and  the  scientific  parts 
of  geography,  together  with  the  use  of  the  globes ;  but  I  have 
invariably  found,  that  under  fourteen  years  of  age  my  pupils 
have  not  made  that  proficiency  which  I  could  wish.  I  give  no 
tasks,  and  only  on  certain  occasions  use  any  book.  I  deliver 
lectures,  lay  down  principles,  and  get  them  to  converse  on  the 
various  subjects  which  come  under  our  notice.  Having  made 
them  acquainted  with  established  rules,  I  then  purposely  violate 
them  in  conversation,  and  make  my  pvipils,  not  only  correct  my 
errors,  but  assign  reasons  for  the  corrections  they  give.  It  is 
astonishing  what  proficiency  they  make,  when  they  begin  to 
reflect  and  reason  on  the  propriety  of  things,  by  this  mode  of 
instruction." 

In  the  year  1804  commenced  that  intimacy  between  Mr. 
Drew  and  the  late  learned  Dr,  Adam  Clarke,  which  quickly 
produced  a  strong  and  permanent  attachment.  Their  friend- 
ship originated  in  a  spontaneous  act  of  kindness  in  the  latter, 
indicative  of  a  great  and  generous  mind.  Being  based  upon 
religions  feeling,  it  was  quickened  by  early  recollections, — 
heightened  by  mutual  admiration, — sustained  by  proofs  of  recip- 
rocal good-will, — and  sundered,  for  a  few  months  only,  by 
death,  to  be  cemented  anew  in  a  happier  state  of  being. 


ACQUAINTANCE  WITH  DR.  A.  CLARKE. 


125 


An  imlifation  that  Mr.  Drew's  writings  had  attracted  the 
notice  of  the  then  Mr.  Clarke  will  be  found  at  page  111.  A 
gentleman  writing  to  Mr.  Drew,  March  16th,  observes,  "  Two 
days  ago  I  received  a  letter  from  mv  friend  Adam  Clarke,  who 
mentions  their  having  elected  you  a  Member  of  the  Manchester 
Philological  Society,  and  says  he  wishes  to  encourage  you  in 
your  literary  pursuits."  This  intimation  was  followed  by  the 
subjoined  letters,  written  upon  one  sheet. 

"  To  Mr.  Samvel  Drew,  St.  Austell. 

"  Manchester,  1 1th  April,  1804. 

"  Sir, 

"At  a  meeting  of  the  Philological  Society,  held  on  Friday 
evening,  the  6th  instant,  the  President,  Vice-Presidents,  and 
Members,  from  the  high  sense  they  entertain  of  the  merit  and 
importance  of  your  late  work,  entitled  'An  Essay  on  the  Im- 
materiality and  Immortality  of  the  Human  Soul,"  agreed  to  dis- 
pense with  the  usual  formalities,  imjour  case,  and  unanimously 
elected  you  an  honorary  member  of  the  said  society. 

"  By  order  of  the  President,  Vice-Presidents,  and  Members. 
I  have  the  honour  to  be,  with  much  esteem,  sir, 

"  Your  obedient  humble  servant, 

"  Tho.  Bradwell, 

"  Secretary." 

"  My  honest  Friend, 
"It  is  a  long  time  since  I  had  the  opportunity  of  asking  you 
(in  any  form)  how  you  did.  I  have  read  your  answer  to  Uncle 
Polwhele,  and  think  it  one  of  the  best  pieces  of  the  kind  I  have 
met  with  for  many  years.  I  admire  your  piece  on  the  Imma- 
teriality of  the  Soul,  but  am  not  satisfied  that  yon  are  always 
right.  I  have  often  objected  to  some  of  your  positions  ;  not 
because  I  think  them  false,  but  because  I  think  them  insufficient 
to  support  the  edifice  to  which  they  stand  either  as  buttresses 
or  abutments.  You  have  done  nearly  as  much  as  can  be  done  ; 
but  I  am  far  from  thinking  that  your  point  is  proved.  If  the 
doctrine  can  be  demonstrated,  it  must  be  by  some  new  mode  of 
proof  which  has  not  yet  been  adduced.  I  shall  rejoice  to  hear 
from  you  at  any  time.  Give  my  love  to  all  my  old  companions 
in  St  Austell. 

"  I  am,  my  dear  friend, 

"  Yours  affectionately, 

"A.  Cr-ARKS. 

La 


126 


LIFE  OF  SAMITFL  DUEW. 


"  P.S.— If  you  publish  another  edition  of  your  Immateriality, 
&c.,  let  me  know — perhaps  I  might  be  able  to  help  yon  a  little, 
were  it  only  to  show  you  some  objections  to  your  svstem,  of 
which  you  are,  perhaps,  not  aware.  There  is  no  point  in  uni- 
versal science  I  should  rejoice  more  heartily  to  see  demon- 
strated than  that  which  you  have  undertaken  to  prove.  The 
opposite  is  a  degrading  and  uncomfortable  doctrine." 


To  each  member  of  this  literary  society  was  presented  an 
engraved  diploma,  printed  on  vellum,  headed  with  an  appro- 
priate emblematical  vignette.  Some  time  after  the  receipt  of 
the  preceding  letters,  Mr.  Drew  was  gratified  by  being  put  in 
possession  of  the  following  compliment  to  his  talents  and  appli- 
cation. 


Manchester^  Qth  April, 

THE 

PHILOLOGICAL  SOCIETY  OF  MANCHESTER, 

Instituted  the  22d  of  September, 
M  D  C  C  C  1 1  r, 

For  the  cultivation  of  Literatuke  in  general,  and  the  diffusion 
of  Useful  Knowledge,  have  this  day  elected  SAMUEL 
DREW  an  Associate  in  their  Literary  Labours.  In  testimony 
whereof 

SEjjis  IDiploma 
Is  given,  under  our  Hands  and  Seal, 
Adam  Clakkk,  President. 
John  Fox,  ^  Secrc        James  Hawkes,   )  Vice-Pres- 

W.  Critchley,   >  'f^j.jg^       William  Johns,  )  idcnts. 
Joseph  Barber,  ) 


This  society,  which  owed  its  existence  chiefly  to  Dr.  Clarke, 
and  was  begun  under  favourable  auspices,  if  it  had  been  carried 
on  with  the  same  ability  and  spirit  with  which  it  commenced, 
might,  at  the  present  time,  have  been  an  honour  to  Manchester, 
and  a  living  monument  to  the  memory  of  the  doctor.  His  re- 
moval, and  that  of  several  of  its  most  influential  members,  from 
that  place,  was  probably  the  cause  of  its  decline  and  ultimate 
extinction. 


The  year  1805  was  an  important  era  in  Mr.  Drew's  life. 
Hitherto  literary  pursuits  had  been  the  employment  of  those 


CONNFCTION  WITH  DR.  rOKF. 


157 


vacant  hours  which  his  mechanical  avocations  afforded  :  hence- 
forward they  became  his  daily  business.  His  allegiance  to  St. 
Crispin  was  now  dissolved ;  and  the  awl  and  lapstone  were 
exchansied  for  the  pen. 

Dr.  Thomas  Coke,  who  claims  the  honourable  distinction  of 
being  the  founder  of  the  VVesleyan  Methodist  Missions,  was, 
in  the  early  part  of  this  year,  soliciting  assistance  in  the  western 
counties  for  prosecuting  the  missionary  work.  Here  he  be- 
came personally  acquainted  with  Mr.  Drew  ;  and  being  much 
pleased  with  his  conversation,  made  to  him  certain  proposals, 
which,  after  some  deliberation,  were  accepted.  In  reference 
to  this  agreement,  we  quofe  Mr.  Drew's  own  words,  in  his  life 
of  this  gentleman. 

"  Very  early  in  the  year  1805, 1  became  more  particularly  ac- 
quainted with  Dr.  Coke  than  I  had  been  before.  At  this  time  his 
Commentary  on  the  Bible  was  verging  towards  a  close,  and  his 
History  of  the  West  Indies  had  acquired  an  imbodied  form. 
Being  constantly  engaged  in  soliciting  support  for  the  missions, 
and  finding  their  claims  upon  his  exertions  to  iticrease  daily, 
he  lodged  some  papers  in  my  hands,  requesting  irie  to  examine 
them  with  attention,  to  notice  defects,  to  expunge  redundancies, 
and  to  give,  on  some  occasions,  a  new  feature  to  expression. 
All  this  was  accordingly  done ;  and  in  many  instances  my  re- 
commendations were  fully  adopted.  This  intercourse  subsisted 
for  several  years  ;  and  I  received  from  Dr.  Coke  a  pecimiary 
remuneration,  in  proportion  to  the  time  that  was  expended  in 
his  service. 

"  To  what  extent  this  assistance  grew,  the  world  is  not  in- 
terested in  knowing.  The  death  of  Dr.  Coke  has  made  me 
'  the  sole  depository  of  the  secret,'  and  it  is  my  full  intention,  at 
present,  that  '  it  shall  perish  with  mo.'  Though  one  is  a  resi- 
dent of  time,  and  the  other  an  inhabitant  of  eternity, — though 
the  body  of  one  still  breathes  in  Cornwall,  and  that  of  the  other 
consumes  in  some  solitary  cavern  beneath  the  Indian  Ocean, — 
the  compact  still  remains  undissolved,  and  will  probably  so  re- 
main until  our  spirits  meet  in  an  eternal  world." 

It  was  at  first  intended  thai  Mr.  Drew  should  reside  in  Lon- 
don.* In  consequence  of  liis  reluctance  to  leave  Cornwall, 
this  was  subsequently  overruled,  and  he  continued  in  his  former 

*  Upon  the  suhjrct  of  his  connection  with  Dr.  Coke,  nnd  removal  to 
London,  Mr.  U.  consulted,  amonir  others,  his  friend  Mr.  Clarke,  whose 
characteristic  answer  exhibits  the  unreservedness  of  friendship,  and 
the  devotedness  of  a  Christian  : — 


128 


LIFE  OF  SAMUEL  DREW. 


place  of  abode.  The  precise  nature  of  the  compact  between 
Mr.  D.  and  Dr.  Coke,  though  never  exphcitly  stated,  is  scarcely 
a  matter  of  uncertainty  ;  nor  can  it  be  a  breach  of  confidence 
in  the  writer  of  this  memoir  to  make  known,  after  the  decease 
of  both  parties,  what  was  not  communicated  to  him  under  the 
seal  of  secrecy,  but  deduced  from  personal  observation. 

When  Dr.  Coke  first  became  acquainted  with  Mr.  Drew, 
his  Commentary  on  the  New  Testament  was  anxiously  expected 
by  the  public.  The  whole  burden  of  directing  the  missionary 
work  rested  tlien  upon  him — a  work  which  had  increased  so 
much,  that  it  was  impossible  for  him  to  fulfil  his  duty  in  this 
respect,  and  discharge  his  literarj^  obligations.    Under  this 


"  London,  October  24,  1805. 

"My  DEAR  Sir, 

"  London  I  consider  the  first  place  under  the  sun.  So  much  do  I  love 
it,  after  long  acquaintance,  that  I  should  prefer  a  garret  and  hammock  in 
it,  with  one  meal  per  diem,  to  the  most  elegant  building  and  finest  fare 
in  any  part  of  the  globe  which  would  preclude  my  access  to  this  wonder- 
ful metropolis.  I  have  travelled  the  streets  of  London  at  all  hours,  both 
of  the  day  and  night,  and  was  never  yet  molested,  or  ever  lost  even  a 
pocket-handkerchief  or  a  tooth-pick.  The  good  women,  it  is  true,  have 
often  accosted  me  in  the  most  friendly  manner,  and  caught  mc  by  the 
arm  ;  but  as  I  walk  at  an  immense  sling, — about  five  miles  an  hour, — 
thoy  soon  found  it  too  difficult  to  keep  up  with  a  man  who  seemed  to 
have  set  out  on  a  walk  round  the  globe  ;  and  who,  for  aught  they  could 
tell,  was  destitute  of  speech. 

"  The  London  people  are  in  general  very  '  reserved  and  shy  of  access  ;' 
but  when  men  of  worth  get  acquainted  with  men  of  merit,  they  are  not 
only  friendly,  but  truly  affectionate.  I  have  a  circle  of  friends  here,  who 
shall  be  your  friends  also,  who  may  justly  rank  among  the  most  excel- 
lent of  the  earth. 

"  With  some  of  the  most  eminent  of  the  literati  I  have  an  intimate 
arquaintance,  and  meet  them  frequently  in  literary  committees.  Under 
the  rose,  my  connection  with  reviewers,  eminent  booksellers,  and  the 
members  of  the  British  and  Foreign  Bible  Society  gives  me  opportuni- 
ties of  gaining  acquaintances  and  hearing  discussions  of  the  most  impor- 
tant and  instructive  kind.  Into  any  of  those  literary  mysteries  I  can 
soon  initiate  you.  On  your  present  engagement  I  will  give  you  my 
opinion  when  we  meet.    I  am  glad  you  have  no';  lost  your  grasp  of  God. 

"  Learning  I  love, — learned  men  I  prize, — with  the  company  of  the 
great  and  the  good  I  am  often  delighted ;  but  infinitely  above  all  these, 
and  all  other  possible  enjoyments,  I  glory  in  Christ, — in  me  living  .and 
reigning,  and  fitting  me  for  his  heaven. 

"  I  am,  my  dear  sir,  yours  affectionately, 

"  A.  Clarke. 

"  I  should  like  to  be  remembered  to  any  of  my  old  friends  who  yet 
remain.    I  remember  well  when  we  had  glorious  days  in  St.  Austell." 


co^^'ECTIo:^  with  dr.  coke. 


129 


difliculty,  he  looked  about  for  aid  ;  and  found  in  Mr.  Drew  such 
an  assistant  as  he  needed.  IMuch  material  had  been  collected 
for  the  Commentary.  The  outlines  were  also  sketched  of  the 
West  Indian  History,  the  History  of  the  Bible,  and  other  books 
which  Dr.  Coke  had  either  announced  or  contemplated.  These 
outlines  and  materials  were  put  into  Mr.  Drew's  hands  ;  and 
it  became  his  business  to  select,  arrange,  and  perfect. 

We  again  quote  an  explanatory  paragraph  from  liis  life  of 
Dr.  Coke. 

"From  motives  to  which  the  auihor  will  not  give  a  name, 
many  questions  have  been  asked,  in  consequence  of  the  pre- 
ceding compact,  which,  in  the  eye  of  ignorance,  would  seem 
to  terminate  to  Dr.  Coke's  disadvantage.  In  a  letter  which  is 
now  before  the  writer,  this  sentiment  is  expressed  in  the  fol- 
lowing words: — 'What  effrontery  must  any  person  be  pos- 
sessed of,  who  imposes  upon  the  public  by  publishing  books 
or  tracts  in  his  own  name,  though  written  by  another,  and  not 
ingenuously  giving  the  honour  to  whom  honour  is  due.'  To 
this  family  of  questions,  propositions,  and  apostrophes.  Dr. 
Coke,  in  a  letter  now  in  my  possession,  has  furnished  a  satis- 
factory reply.  In  the  year  1811,  when  this  letter  was  written, 
he  proposed  to  incorporate  my  name  with  his  own ;  but  in  the 
title-pages  of  works  that  had  already  appeared,  thi.?  could  not 
be  done.  In  such,  however,  as  were  then  designed  to  be  pub- 
lished, it  is  probable  tliat  this  incorporation  would  have  taken 
place,  if  a  change  in  the  mode  of  his  proceedings  had  not  ren- 
dered it  impracticable,  by  the  disposal  of  his  works  to  the 
Conference,  and  consequently  by  suspending  the  plans  which 
he  had  in  contemplation.  Let  such  as  charge  him  with  '  effron- 
tery' say  what,  under  existing  circumstances,  they  would  have 
expected  him  to  do  more." 

After  these  statements,  the  reader  of  this  memoir  will  be 
enabled  to  judge  how  far  the  credit  or  discredit  of  those  works 
which  were  given  to  the  world  in  the  name  of  Dr.  Coke  sub- 
sequently to  May,  1805,  is  to  be  imputed  to  Mr.  Drew.*  Upon 

*  The  following  extract  from  a  letter  written  by  Dr.  Coke,  oflf  Ma- 
deira, January  22,  1814,  to  Mr.  Drew,  will  throw  some  further  light  on 
the  nature  of  llieir  connection  : — 

"  In  respect  to  the  History  of  the  Bible,  I  verily  believe,  that  if  God 
bring  me  back  from  India,  we  shall  be  able  to  proceed  with  it,  or  you  and 
some  Loudon  bookseller.  I  have  taken  with  me  a  set  of  the  numbers 
which  have  been  printed,  that  I  may  give  them  a  most  serious  reading. 
I  have  not  disposed  of  the  translation  of  .Saurin's  Dissertations.  They 
are  in  a  small  box  in  one  of  Mr.  Blanshnrd's  upper  rooms. 


130 


LIFE   OF  SAMUEL  DREW. 


the  footing  already  indicated  this  engagement  subsisted,  until 
the  transfer  of  Dr.  Coke's  literarj'  properly  to  the  Wesleyan 
Conference  in  1812.  It  then  underwent  some  modifications, 
and  was  terminated  by  the  venerable  doctor's  sudden  and 
lamented  death,  in  May,  1814,  when  nearly  in  sight  of  the 
Indian  Continent. 


SECTION  XVI. 

Mr.  Drew  is  invited  to  enter  the  church — His  conversation  with  a  Deiat — 
He  writes  as  a  reviewer. 

From  the  celebrity  which  his  Essay  on  the  Soul  had 
obtained,  Mr.  Drew  acquired  considerable  notoriety  as  a 
preacher.  When  appointed  to  the  pulpit  at  home,  although 
novelty  could  not  be  a  source  of  attraction,  the  ciiapel  was 
always  fdled  with  attentive  hearers  ;  and  Methodism  in  St. 
Austell  was  not  the  less  popular  for  his  literary  reputation. 
In  Cornwall  and  Devonshire  he  was  so  far  an  object  of  esteem 
or  curiosity,  that  the  invitations  from  various  quarters  to  deliver 
occasional  sermons  were  more  numerous  than  he  could  pos- 
sibly accept.*  "  What  need,"  observes  a  pious  friend,  in 
writing  to  Mr.  Drew  about  this  period,  "  have  you  to  live  to 
God,  lest,  amid  unbounded  applause,  you  should  let  go  any 
of  that  religion  which  alone  can  satisfy  the  immortal  mind  !" 


"  The  Missionary  Sermon. — I  read  the  introduction  at  Portsmouth, 
and  viewed  the  skeleton.  Every  thing  you  write  has  its  excellence.  But 
a  weak  mind  would  be  tempted  to  doubt  the  truth  of  prophecy  from  your 
remarks  concerning  the  several  circumstances  which  establish  its  truth. 
It  is  too  refined  for  common  readers.  Between  us,  we  shall,  I  trust,  make 
an  excellent  sermon  of  it ;  and  I  can  send  it  to  the  book-room,  or  the 
committee,  from  India. 

"  Yours  faithfully, 

"T.  Coke." 

♦  On  his  remarking  to  an  over-zealous  lady  who  blamed  himfor  not 
attending  to  all  the  invitations  to  preach  that  he  received,  that  "  We  are 
not  required  to  kill  ourselves  by  excessive  labour  in  the  services  of  re- 
ligion," she  very  earnestly  rejoined,  "  But,  sir,  you  know  that  if  you  die, 
God  will  raise  up  another  in  your  stead."  We  scarcely  need  add,  that 
with  him  such  an  argument  had  no  weight,  however  forcible  it  might 
have  been  thought  by  his  fair  adviser. 


CHURCH  PRKFERMEIST  DECLINED. 


131 


Happily  he  did  not  forget  that  intellect  is  the  gift  of  God — 
that,  as  a  gift,  it  left  no  place  for  self-gratulation — that  for 
its  proper  exercise  he  must  render  a  scrupulous  account — and 
that,  for  its  right  employment  and  direction,  it  was  indispen- 
sable that  he  should  cultivate  an  habitual  dependence  upon 
Him,  without  whom  "  nothing  is  wise,  nothing  is  strong."  A. 
weaker  mind,  in  Mr.  Drew's  circumstances,  might  have  suf- 
fered injury  :  he,  in  every  stage,  retained  his  primitive  sim- 
plicity, and,  we  believe,  never  permitted  the  praise  of  men  to 
relax  his  duty  to  God. 

The  Very  Reverend  Archdeacon  of  Cornwall,  after  his 
introduction  to  Mr.  Drew,  in  1803,  continued  to  call  upon  him 
at  the  time  of  his  yearly  visitations.  Notwithstanding  his 
knowledge  of  Mr.  D.'s  Methodism,  he  felt  for  him  a  growing 
regard.  It  subdued  that  repugnance  with  which  a  gentleman 
by  birth,  and  a  high  churchman  by  education  and  office,  might 
be  expected  to  view  an  intimacy  with  a  mechanic,  and,  accord- 
ing to  popular  acceptation,  a  dissenter;  and  it  led,  in  1805,  to 
a  proposal,  which  indicated  a  generous  wish  to  show  himself  a 
patron  and  a  friend.  The  proposal  was,  that  Mr.  Drew  should 
become  a  candidate  for  holy  orders.  The  archdeacon 
promised  all  his  influence  to  obtain  for  him  such  preferment 
as  his  talents  merited,  and  wished  him  to  take  the  matter  into 
serious  consideration. 

This  proposition  Mr.  Drew  declined.  To  the  Church  he 
felt  no  antipathy :  on  the  contrary,  he  had  been  noted  by  his 
religious  friends  for  his  advocacy  of  the  establishment ;  and 
having  found  among  its  ministers  his  first  literary  patrons,  he 
was  attached  to  it  by  the  ties  of  gratitude.  But  there  were 
some  points  in  its  articles  to  which  he  could  not  subscribe ;  he 
preferred  the  free  constitution  of  Methodism  to  the  restraints  of 
episcopal  government ;  and  he  believed  that  the  intimate  con- 
nection suggested,  though  in  a  temporal  point  of  view  advan- 
tageous, would  ill  accord  with  his  previous  associations  and 
habits,  and  would  diminish  his  general  usefulness.  For  the 
same  reasons,  he  declined  a  similar  offer,  made  some  years 
I  afterward,  by  a  gentleman  who  also  tendered  him  his  services 
and  patronage. 

About  the  year  1800,  as  Mr.  Drew  was  travelling  through 
the  eastern  part  of  Cornwall,  on  a  stage-coach,  he  entered  into 
conversation  with  a  fellow-traveller,  who  avowed  himself  a  dis- 
believer in  Revelation,  and  commenced  an  undisguised  attack 


132 


LIFL   OF  SAMUKL  DEEvT. 


on  the  Bible,  In  Mr.  Drew  he  soon  foiuiJ  a  formidable  an- 
tagonist. He  wiblied  to  withdraw  from  ihe  conicst ;  Lut  Mr. 
Drew  became  in  turn  the  assailant,  and  pressed  him  so  closely 
with  argument  as  to  compel  him  to  ask  quarter,  and  confess 
his  ignorance  of  the  writings  of  those  deistical  authors  whose 
disciple  he  professed  to  be,  and  with  the  enumeration  of  whose 
names  he  thought  to  awe  his  companion  into  silence. 

Tlie  substance  of  tiiis  conversation  appeared  in  the  Metho- 
dist Magazine,  of  1807,  under  the  title  of  "  A  Dialogue  be- 
tween a  Deist  and  a  Christian."  It  found  its  way  into  the 
pages  of  that  periodical  through  one  of  the  preachers  to  whom 
Mr.  Drew  related  it  soon  after  its  occurrence.  In  1819,  at  the 
recommendation  of  a  friend  who  thought  the  Dialogue  exceed- 
ingly well  adapted  to  counteract  the  effect  of  those  profane  and 
deistical  pamphlets  which,  by  their  lavish  distribution,  were 
unsettling  the  belief  and  demoralizing  the  conduct  of  the  labour- 
ing population,  Mr.  Drew  condensed  it,  and  published  it  as  a 
twopenny  tract.  By  his  permission,  an  edition  of  ten  thou- 
sand was  also  printed  the  following  year  by  the  Manchester 
Tract  Society. 

The  conversation,  which  is  highly  valuable  and  very  amu- 
sing, would,  we  doubt  not,  gratify  those  of  our  readers  who 
have  never  perused  it ;  but  since  it  has  appeared  in  print,  in 
various  forms,  we  quote  merely  its  conclusion. 

Mr.  Drew.  "  What  could  induce  you,  sensible  as  you  must 
have  been  of  your  own  deficiency,  to  commence  an  attack 
upon  me  as  soon  as  we  mounted  the  coach  ?" 

Travellei!.  "  I  thought  you  were  a  country  farmer,  and  I 
wanted  to  have  a  little  fun." 

Mr.  D.  "  Did  yon  not  suspect,  when  you  began,  that  you 
were  committing  yourself?" 

T.  "I  had  my  suspicions  after  a  little  while;  but  I  had 
gone  too  far  to  retreat." 

Mr.  D.  "  It  was  a  conviction  of  this  fact  which  induced  me 
to  accept  your  challenge.  But  pray,  how  do  you  like  the  fun 
you  have  had l" 

T.  "Just  as  yon  may  expect.  I  would  not  have  had  any 
of  my  acquaintances  in  company  for  fifty  guineas." 

Mr.  D.  "Well,  sir,  you  have  left  me  in  possession  of  all 
my  arguments ;  you  have  assented  to  the  leading  features  of 
Christianity ;  and  h«ve  not  had  one  word  to  oppose  to  what  I 
have  delivered.  I  do  not  consider  that  all  I  have  advanced  is 
conclusive.    1  only  spoke  from  the  impulse  of  the  occasion 


CONVERSATION  WITH  A  DEIST. 


133 


and  the  moment ;  but  I  am  confident  that  the  ground  on  which 
I  have  stood  is  perfectly  tenable  ;  and  the  event  has  proved, 
that  what  I  have  advanced  has  imposed  silence  on  you.  I 
claim  no  merit  in  conquering  you;  for  this  even  a  child  might 
have  done  :  my  only  merit  consists  in  encountering  you,  when 
you  held  out  such  a  terrific  front." 

T.  "  I  beg  you  will  drop  the  discourse  :  we  are  getting 
into  town,  and  I  fear  the  people  will  hear  us." 

Mr.  D.  "  Sir,  I  will  say  no  more.  I  thank  you  for  pre- 
serving your  temper,  and  recommend  to  your  notice  that  Bible 
which  you  have  been  taught  to  despise." 

The  vanquished  Deist  was  a  mercantile  traveller.  We  are 
not  prepared  to  say,  that,  like  the  gentleman  with  whom  Mr. 
Drew  discussed  the  arguments  in  the  "  Age  of  Reason,"  he 
abandoned  his  Deism,  and  embraced  Christianity ;  but  he  so 
far  respected  his  antagonist  as  to  visit  him,  whenever,  in  the 
course  of  his  journeys,  he  passed  through  St.  Austell. 

In  1806,  through  the  steady  friendship  and  kind  offices  of 
Mr.  Clarke,  Mr.  Drew  entered  upon  a  department  of  literature 
which  the  following  letters  fully  explain  ;  while  they  illustrate 
a  few  points  of  editorial  management. 

"  To  Mr.  Samuel  Drew. 

"London,  Cily-road,  July  8,  1806. 

"Dear  Sir, 

"  Some  literary  gentlemen,  who  manage  one  of  the  Reviews, 
who  have  seen,  and  highly  esteem,  your  Essay  on  the  Imma- 
teriality of  the  Soul,  have  applied  to  me,  to  know  whether  I 
thought  you  would  become  a  writer  on  that  subject  which  you 
so  well  understand,  and  favour  their  Review  with  occasional 
contributions.  They  would  wish  to  put  the  metaphysical  de- 
partment entirely  into  your  hands,  and  upon  terms  the  most 
honourable  in  this  way.  In  plain  English,  if  you  will  become 
a  Reviewer  in  this  department,  or  any  other  allied  to  it,  I  am 
authorized  to  say,  that  for  every  printed  sheet  of  your  critiques 
(which  shall  also  include  whatever  extracts  you  think  proper 

to  make  from  the  works  you  review)  you  shall  receive  

guineas.    They  will  also  send  you  the  works  they  wish  you 
to  consider,  free  of  expense ;  and  beside  the  above  remunera- 
tion, you  may  keep  each  work  you  review  at  half-price.  If 
M 


134 


LIFE  OF  SAMUEL  DREW. 


you  agree,  the  M'ork  which  they  wish  to  put  immediately  into 
your  hands  is  Professor  Scott's  '  Elements  of  Intellectual  Phi- 
losophy.' Your  critiques  will  come  through  my  hands  ;  and  if 
there  be  anything  in  which  I  can  help  you,  you  may  command 
it.  Possibly,  I  may  be  able,  in  some  cases,  to  improve  the 
language  a  little ;  at  least,  you  will  have  the  satisfaction  to 
know,  that  your  work  passed  through  the  hands  of  a  friend, 
before  it  met  the  eye  of  strangers. 

"  As  I  suppose  you  intend  principally  to  live  by  your  pen,  I 
know  of  no  way  in  which  you  may  with  more  ease  and  safety 
earn  a  little  money  in  an  honourable  and  honest  way.  It  may 
be  necessary  to  add,  that  you  may  give  free  scope  to  your  re- 
ligious feelings  on  all  such  occasions  :  and  the  ofiener  you  take 
occasion  to  illustrate  the  perfections  of  God,  and  the  great 
truths  of  the  religion  of  Christ,  the  more  acceptable  your  cri- 
tiques will  be.  You  may  send  a  great  deal  of  matter  in  a 
small  compass.  If  you  get  large,  thin  paper,  a  sheet  of  which 
will  weigh  less  than  an  ounce,  it  will  be  but  single  postage. 
Write  as  fair  as  you  well  can,  and  let  the  lines  be  as  much 
apart  as  convenient,  that  there  may  be  no  cause  of  confusion. 
I  am  writing  now  as  though  you  had  accepted  the  proposal, 
which  I  must  own  I  cannot  help  recommending. — As  I  have 
promised  to  use  despatch  in  this  business,  I  hope  you  will 
favour  me  with  an  answer,  if  possible,  by  return  of  post. — If 
you  wish  for  any  further  information,  I  shall  feel  a  pleasure  in 
giving  it,  as  far  as  I  can.  As  reviewers  keep  themselves 
secret,  you  will  see  the  propriety  of  keeping  this  matter  to 
yourself. 

"  May  I  ask  you,  what  are  you  now  engaged  in  ?  Is  the 
piece  on  the  Resurrection  finished  ?  Have  you  projected  any 
new  work  ?  Is  there  any  thing  in  which  1  can  assist  or  serve 
you  ? 

"  Think,  purpose,  speak,  and  act  so,  in  all  things,  that  you 
may  ever  carry  about  in  your  own  conscience  a  plenary  sense 
of  the  approbation  of  your  God. 

"  I  am,  my  dear  sir, 

*'  Yours  very  affectionately, 

"  A.  Clarkk." 


TUE  ECLECTIC  REVIEW. 


136 


"London,  August  14,  1806. 

"  My  dear  Sir, 

"I  have  just  time  to  say,  that  the  editor  of  (he  Eclectic 
Review  (that  for  which  you  are  engaged)  sends  you  Professor 
Scott's  and  Forsyth's  works  :  the  first  you  will  be  so  kind  as 
to  examine  with  as  much  speed  as  possible.  I  shall  also  feel 
obliged  to  you  to  speak  as  well  of  it  as  you  can,  consistently 
with  truth,  and  the  sacred,  rigid  rules  of  criticism. 

"I  am  utterly  unacquainted  with  Mr.  Scott;  but  Professor 
Bentley,  who  is  the  LL.O.P.  of  King's  College,  has  written  to 
me  respecting  the  work,  and,  indeed,  earnestly  wished  me  to 
review  it,  but  I  really  have  neither  time  nor  capacity  for  such 
an  undertaking.  My  powers,  if  I  have  any,  must  work  in  a 
different  sphere. 

"  As  every  thing  in  the  Review  is  regulated, — the  articles 
being  restricted  to  a  certain  quantum  of  letter-press, — about 
eight  or  nine  printed  pages  of  a  critique  on  each  of  these  works 
is  all  that  can  vv'ell  be  allotted  to  them;  and  you  will  write  no 
more  than  is  quite  necessary  to  fill  up  so  much  space,  unless 
something  very  important  presents  itself  to  you.  This  infor- 
mation is  seldom  given  to  reviewers ;  as  the  editor  always 
preserves  his  right  to  cut  clown  what  he  does  not  want — 
and  from  this  circumstance,  many  writers  in  Reviews  get  in- 
curably offended.  This  item  of  notice  will  prevent  you  from 
receiving  any  mortification  from  this  quarter.  The  committee 
which  manages  this  Review  is  composed  of  a  number  of  gentle- 
men of  independent  fortune.  I  iiave  seldom  seen  so  much 
strong,  manly  sense,  sound  piety,  and  genuine  learning,  go 
hand  in  hand.  You  do  not  know  these,  but  you  know  me: — I 
will,  therefore,  take  care  that  you  shall  be  duly  paid — so  that 
business  will  be  secure. 

***** 

"  I  have  neither  lot  nor  portion  in  the  Eclectic  Review,  but 
have  occasionally  written  articles  for  it,  because  I  saw  that  its 
plan  and  object  were  excellent. 

"  My  dear  sir,  let  us  live  in  the  spirit  and  power  of  the  Lord 
Jesus. 

"  I  am, 

"  Yours,  very  affectionately, 

"  A.  Clarke." 


136 


LIFE  OF  SAMUEL  DREW. 


"  London,  January  15,  1807. 

"  Dear  Sir, 

"  I  received  your  eight  letters  by  the  same  post — apropos, 
Why  did  you  not  put  them  in  a  jJacfict,  when  they  were  all 
ready  at  tlie  same  time,  and  send  them  by  mail-coach  1  Then 
they  would  have  cost  one  half  less.  But  metaj)hysicians  are 
not  always  oeconomists.  Well,  tiiey  were  very  welcome,  and 
would  have  been  redeemed  had  they  been  treble  charged.  1 
read  the  wliole  through  tlie  same  day,  and  was  well  pleased 
with  ilie  close  sliaving  which  you  gave  to  that  vile  caitiff  For- 
eyth ;  but  I  think  he  was  hardly  worth  powder  and  shot ;  and 
I  wish  you  could  have  compressed  your  critique.  Whether  it 
will  be  all  got  in,  I  cannot  tell — I  am  sure  the  editor  will  leave 
none  of  it  out  to  save  expense  ;  but  each  department  of  science 
must  have  its  own  quantum  of  letter-press. 

"  I  dare  say  you  wish  lo  know  how  your  review  of  Scott's 
Elements  has  been  received  among  the  wise-ones.  I  can  say, 
and  it  gives  me  pleasure  to  be  able  to  say,  that  it  has  been  well 
received,  and  is,  by  those  who  arc  proper  judges,  highly  es- 
teemed. '  But  how  has  Professor  Scott  himself  received  it  V 
You  shall  learn  from  the  following  extract  of  a  letter  which  1 
lately  received  from  Mr.  Bentley,  Professor  of  the  Oriental 
languages  in  King's  College.  '  Though  Mr.  Scott  did  not  ac- 
quiesce in  all  the  strictures  of  the  reviewer  of  his  work,  yet  he 
confessed  he  was  highly  praised,  and  much  gratified ;  and  I 
thank  yon  for  taking  care,  not  only  that  the  desire  I  expressed 
wlien  I  sent  the  book  should  be  fulfilled,  but  that  it  has  been 
exceeded.' 

"  Your  critique  on  Forsyth  will  occupy  the  first  place  ia 
the  number  for  next  month.  This  is  the  place  of  highest 
honour.  When  it  is  printed,  I  shall  transmit  the  labourer  his 
hire.  We  shall  get  something  else  for  you  as  soon  as  possible. 
Is  there  any  thing  in  your  way  which  you  know  of  that  you 
would  like  to  have  put  in  your  hand  1  If  there  be,  let  me  knovr 
it  immediately. 

The  Eclectic  Review  is  taking  a  high  stand  among  the  lite- 
rary journals  of  the  day.  In  the  estimation  of  good  judges  it 
is  equal  to  any  of  its  competitors,  and  often  superior.  Some 
of  the  cleverest  fellows  in  the  nation  are  writers  in  it,  and  they 
are  all  paid  Jiigh  ;  so  that  the  proprietors  have  never  yet 
received  a  sixpence  of  gain — but  perhaps  the  time  is  not  very 
distant  when  they  shall  reap  where  they  have  sowed. 

"  I  am  so  excessively  occupied  with  the  avocations  of  my 
situation  here  as  superintendent  of  this  circuit,  and  president, 


THE  ECLECTIC  REVIEW. 


137 


ad  interim,  of  the  Conference,  that  I  have  scarcely  any  time  to 
do  any  thing  for  myself — besides,  I  am  so  often  called  out  on 
different  committees  for  various  purposes,  that  I  am  a  mere 
slave  to  the  public.  But  August  will  come,  and  then,  if  spared, 
I  shall  get  out  of  my  present  situation,  and  retire  a  little  into 
myself. 

"What  are  you  doing?  Some  tell  me  that  you  are  writing 
Dr.  Coke's  History  of  the  West  Indies  !  Can  you  make  En- 
glish of  this  speech?  If  I  thought  you  were  dull,  I  would  ex- 
plain it. 

"  If  your  book  on  the  Resurrection  of  the  Human  Body  be  a 
good  thing,  I  wish  it  to  bring  you  more  than  the  last  did.  I 
think,  in  this  business,  I  can  make  a  better  bargain  for  you 
than  you  can  for  yourself;  and  what  I  can  do  you  may 
command. 

"  Do  you  think  my  old  friends  in  St.  Austell  would  know  me 
again  ?  When  first  with  them  I  was  young  and  hearty  ;  now  I 
am  old,  with  hair  almost  as  white  as  snow,  and  a  siicth-fallen 
cheek !  What  a  change  in  a  few  years  !  Can  you,  by  fair 
argumentation,  give  me  back  my  primitive  body  ? — May  we 
live  for  eternity,  and  die  possessed  of  the  whole  image  of 
God! 

"  I  am,  my  dear  sir, 

"  Yours  affectionately  in  the  Lord, 

"  A.  Clarke." 

The  subjoined  letter  from  the  editor  of  the  Eclectic  has 
reference  to  a  wish  previously  expressed,  that  Mr.  Drew  would 
undertake  the  critical  examination  of  Dr.  William's  theory,  in 
his  Essay  on  the  Equity  of  the  Divine  Government,  and  of  a 
series  of  pamphlets  written  for  and  against  his  hypothesis.  On 
first  intimating  his  desire  to  Mr.  Drew,  the  editor  observes, 
"  This  is  a  subject  of  peculiar  delicacy  in  the  Eclectic  Review, 
because  we  do  not  advance  any  decided  opinions  on  the  sub- 
jects concerning  which  Arminians  and  Calvinists  differ.  Con- 
sidering you  to  be  so  well  versed  in  speculations  of  this  kind 
as  to  know  their  difficulties,  and  to  be  much  more  moderate 
I  than  a  mere  Arminian  or  a  mere  Calvinist  in  general  is,  I 
feel  very  little  hesitation  in  asking  your  assistance  on  this  con- 
troversy." 

M  2 


138 


LIFE  OF  SAMUEL  DREW. 


"  41  Castle-street,  Holborn, 
"  March  3,  1809. 

"  Dear  Sir, 

"  I  have  this  moment  received  your  letter,  and  lose  no  time 
in  answering  it. — In  the  first  place,  I  do  not  hesitate  to  re- 
quest that  you  would  immediately  undertake  the  subject, 
and  proceed  with  all  diligence.  I  shall  be  glad  to  see  the 
whole  MS.  before  any  part  of  it  is  put  to  press  ;  because  I  con- 
sider the  importance  of  such  a  critique,  published  in  such  a 
work  as  tlie  Eclectic  Review,  to  be  great  beyond  calculation  ; 
and  I  certainly  should  think  myself  grossly  culpable,  if  I  were 
instrumental  in  publishing  any  remarks  on  the  subject,  without 
being  well  satisfied  myself,  as  well  as  satisfying  those  with 
Avhom  I  act,  on  their  uniform  propriety.  A  most  excellent 
yoimg  clergyman  with  whom  I  spent  Tuesday  evening,  speak- 
ing of  a  work  much  inferior  in  importance  to  this  controversy, 
said,  '  The  reviewer  should  almost  write  that  critique  on  his 
knees.'  You  will  fully  understand  that  what  I  have  just  said 
arises  from  no  distrust  of  you  (for  if  I  had  not  entertained 
the  highest  opinion  both  of  your  discernment  and  your  pru- 
dence, I  could  not  have  requested  your  aid) ;  but  only  from  a 
general  conviction  that  a  critique  on  such  a  subject  should  not 
be  sent  into  the  world  inconsiderately. 

"  With  regard  to  your  plan,  I  see  no  particular  objection  to 
it,  except  the  length  of  disquisition  to  which  it  will  probably 
lead.  I  must  beg  you  to  remember,  that  though  perspicuity 
and  correctness  may  be  objects  of  very  great  importance  in 
their  effect  on  the  reader,  conciseness  is  of  the  first  import- 
ance ;  because  a  very  long  article  cannot  possibly  be  inserted. 

"  I  have  forwarded  you  a  MS.  volunteer  critique,  written  on 
the  doctor's  side  of  the  question,  and,  as  I  apprehend,  by  his 
son.  I  did  not  think  it  fit  for  insertion  ;  but  requested  leave  to 
keep  it  for  the  present,  as  a  help  to  our  reviewer  in  imder- 
standing  the  '  dcmonsiration,''  which  the  doctor  says  '  nobody 
seems  to  comprehend  !'    Dr.  Clarke  is  very  well. 

"  I  remain,  my  dear  sir, 

"  Very  sincerely  yours, 

"  D.  Parken, 

"  I  have  to  thank  you  for  the  pleasure  your  '  Dialogue'  in 
the  Methodist  Magazine  aflxirded  me.  It  has  gained  you  a 
Bubscriber." 

The  fate  of  Mr.  Drew's  critique,  and  the  termination  of  his 


ESSAY  ON  THE  RESURKECTION. 


13? 


connection  with  the  journal  for  which  it  was  prepared,  he  thua 
explained,  several  years  afterward,  to  one  of  his  literary  cor- 
respondents : — "  When  the  passive  power  hypothesis  of  Dr. 
AViiliams  first  made  its  appearance,  and  the  controversy  was 
carried  on  between  his  friends  and  those  who  opposed  his  sys- 
tem, I  occasionally  wrote  articles  for  the  Eclectic  Review, 
and  by  the  editor  was  desired  to  review  these  pamphlets,  which 
were  written  with  a  considerable  degree  of  acuteness.  This  I 
undertook  ;  and  not  knowing  that  tlie  Review  was  so  much  the 
instrument  of  a  party  as  I  have  since  discovered,  I  animad- 
verted on  the  hypothesis  with  more  freedom  than  Dr.  Wil- 
liams's friends  were  willing  to  allow.  In  some  places  I  pointed 
out  what  I  conceived  to  be  the  vulnerable  parts  of  his  fortress, 
and  the  defective  branches  of  his  system.  This  was  sent  to 
the  editor ;  but  it  was  never  printed  ;  nor  have  1,  from  that  time 
to  this,  written  any  thing  for  that  journal.  My  critique  I  never 
recalled ;  so  that  it  still  lies  among  their  papers,  and  there  in 
all  probability  it  will  perish." 


SECTION  XVII. 

Completion  of  Mr.  Drew's  Treatise  on  the  Identity  and  Resurrection  of 
of  the  Body — He  submits  his  .MS.  to  various  literary  characters — Pub- 
lication of  the  Essaj' — Its  reception  with  the  public. 

The  treatise  on  the  Identity  and  Resurrection  of  the  Human 
Body,  which  had  been  for  some  time  laid  aside,  Mr.  Drew, 
urged  by  the  importunities  of  his  friends,  began  at  length  to 
revise.  In  this  work  he  proceeded,  with  a  determination  not 
to  desist,  until,  to  the  utmost  of  his  power,  he  had  "  extracted 
order  from  confusion,  lopped  off  redundancies,  supplied  de- 
fects, and  placed  his  reasonings  in  a  clear  and  unbroken  light." 
This,  to  a  certain  extent,  having  been  effected  about  August 
1806,  the  MS.  was  put  into  the  hands  of  Mr.  Whitaker,  by 
whom  it  was  examined,  and  returned  to  the  author  with  this 
note : — 

"Dfar  Sir, 

"  I  have  read  over  your  Treatise  upon  Identity,  with  much 
care,  and  with  great  pleasure.    I  did  not,  however,  peruse 


140 


LIFE  OF  SAMUEL  DREW. 


it  with  all  the  rapidity  that  I  proposed,  when  I  had  last  the 
pleasure  of  seeing  you  here.  Tlie  work  required  more  at- 
tention from  me  than  I  expected  or  had  calculated  for.  Nor 
did  I  finish  the  perusal  till  Saturday  forenoon.  I  could  not, 
therefore,  return  you  the  manuscript,  as  I  promised,  on  Friday 
morning  ;  even  if  I  had  chosen  to  send  so  valuable  a  packet 
by  a  common  hand.  But,  not  choosing  this,  I  was  at  a  loss 
how  I  should  return  it.  I  therefore  resolved  to  return  it  in  this 
form. 

"  I  wish  to  talk  with  you  a  little  upon  the  subject.    To  one 
or  two  points  I  half  object  at  present.    I  wish  also  to  settle 
with  you  the  form  in  which  you  mean  to  publish  il,  as  by  sub- 
scription or  otherwise.    And  1  beg  you  to  come  hither  on  Sat- 
urday next,  and  dine  witli  us.    We  will  dine  at  one,  that  you 
may  go  back  in  good  time.    If  you  cannot  come,  be  so  kind 
as  to  send  me  a  line  by  the  post  of  Friday. 
"  In  the  mean  time,  dear  sir, 
"  I  remain, 
"  Very  much  your  friend  and  admirer, 

"John  Whitaker. 

"  Monday  forenoon,  Dec.  8,  1806." 

To  the  Rev.  William  Gregor  the  MS.  was  next  submitted, 
and  it  is  to  this  gentleman's  suggestion  that  the  public  is  in- 
debted for  the  short  auto-biographical  sketch  prefixed  to  the 
printed  work.  His  opinion  of  Mr.  Drew's  performance  is  seen 
in  the  two  letters  which  follow. 

"  To  Mr.  Samuel  Drew. 

"  Creed,  January  llth,  1807. 

»  Sir, 

"  I  fear  that  I  must  have  appeared  to  treat  you  with  neglect, 
in  regard  to  your  manuscript.  By  way  of  apology  for  the  ill 
return  that  I  may  have  made  for  the  honour  which  you  have 
done  me,  I  must  bring  forward  other  necessary  avocations,  and 
the  very  Mature  of  your  work. 

"  I  have  perused  it  with  much  interest  and  satisfaction,  and 
have  found  reason  to  admire  the  sagacity  and  perseverance  of 
your  mind,  by  means  of  which  you  have  developed  the  intrica- 
cies of  a  subject  so  remote  from  common  apprehension. 

"  As  I  have  proceeded,  I  have  taken  the  liberty,  with  a  pen- 
cil, to  mark  down  some  critical  minutiae,  and  also  to  correct 


ESSAY  ON  THE  RESURRECTION. 


141 


some  errors  of  your  transcriber.  A  few  cavils,  also,  I  shall 
suggest  to  you.  As  I  am  persuaded  that  in  sending  me  your 
work  you  did  not  intend  to  pay  me  an  unmeaning  compliment, 
so  I  have  thought  it  became  me  not  to  consider  my  perusal  of 
it  as  a  mere  form — I  shall,  tlierefore,  give  you  my  real  opinion 
of  its  merits,  prefaced,  however,  with  the  humble  confession  of 
my  incompetency  to  form  any  judgment  of  it  on  which  you 
should  rely  ;  as  I  have  been  little  conversant  with  metaphysi- 
cal disquisitions. 

"  If  you  are  disengaged  either  on  Friday  or  Saturday  next, 
will  you  do  me  the  favour  of  dining  with  us  at  two  o'clock  ? 
I  will  then  return  you  your  manuscript,  with  many  thanks  ;  and 
we  may  have  some  conversation  on  the  subject. 
"I  am  your  very  obedient  and  humble  servant, 

"  William  Gri;gor." 

"  Creed,  Thursday  evening, 
"  January  29th,  1807. 

"  Sir, 

"  I  avail  myself  of  an  opportunity  of  sending  to  St.Austell, 
to  write  you  a  few  lines  respecting  your  intended  publica- 
tion.— Mr.  Whitaker  dined  with  me  not  long  since.  I  asked 
him  his  opinion,  as  to  the  propriety  of  your  prefixing  to  your 
work  a  plain  narrative  of  the  incidents  of  your  life,  and  the 
circumstances  which  first  led  you  to  metaphysical  inquiries. 
He  was  struck  with  the  suggestion,  and  closed  with  it  at  once 
as  an  advisable  measure.  The  simple  '  unvarnished  tale,'  and 
the  work  itself  would  mutually  set  off  each  other. 

"As  I  hoped  to  have  had  a  long  conversation  with  you  re- 
specting your  work,  when  you  favoured  me  with  your  company, 
I  was,  perhaps,  less  explicit  in  my  written  remarks  than  I  other- 
wise shouUl  have  been — not  but  that  all  the  remarks  which  1 
could  make,  would  only  amount  to  suggestions  for  your  consid- 
eration. 

*  *  «  •  * 

"  Your  language  is  perspicuous  and  forcible,  and  carries 
with  it  proofs  that  you  clearly  comprehended  the  subject.  I 
think,  however,  that  I  suggested  to  you,  that  in  some  places 
you  had  repeated  some  of  your  proofs,  which,  on  a  revisa],you 
might  abridge.  For  as  you  certainly  are  entitled  to  emolument 
from  such  a  curious  and  diflrcult  an  undertaking  as  your  work 
is,  you  should  consider  what  size  your  volume  will  be  of,  or 
whether  it  can  be  printed  in  the  compass  of  one  volume.  And 


142 


LIFE  OF  SAMUEL  PREW. 


I  would  by  all  means  advise  you  to  have  recourse  to  subscrip- 
tion, and  hope  that  you  will  meet  with  due  encouragement. 

"  Believe  me  to  be  yours  truly, 

"  Wm.'  Gregor." 

From  Mr.  Gregor  the  MS.  was  transferred  to  the  venerable 
Archdeacon  Moore,  who,  in  the  following  courteous  terms, 
kindly  consented  to  its  revision. 

"  To  Mr.  Samuel  Drew,  St.  Austell. 

"Bath,  Jan.  31,  1807. 

"  Dear  Sir, 

"  Your  obliging  letter  of  the  20th  inst.  not  finding  me  at 
Exeter,  followed  me  to  this  place,  where  it  found  me  under  the 
oppression  of  the  reigning  catarrlious  cold,  called  the  influenza, 
which  disabled  me  for  several  days  from  holding  my  head  in  a 
writing  posture.  I  thank  God  my  malady  is  now  so  far  abated 
that  I  hope  to  find  myself  at  home  by  the  end  of  next  week, 
when  and  where  I  shall  receive  your  papers  with  great  pleasure, 
and  employ  my  first  leisure  in  perusing  them  with  my  best  at- 
tention. The  subject  is  most  important  as  well  as  difficult ; 
but  intricate  and  obscure  as  it  is  in  its  nature,  I  have  great  ex- 
pectations from  your  laudable  attempt  to  clear  and  enlighten  it. 
For  your  good  reception  witli  the  public,  you  cannot  have 
better  external  security  than  the  imprimatur  of  our  worthy 
friends  at  Creed  and  Ruan  Lanyhorn  ;  so  that  I  do  not  under- 
talie  to  become  your  critic  from  any  conceit  of  adding  to  the 
proof  of  your  armour,  but  because  I  shall  have  a  pride  and 
pleasure  in  being  employed  as  a  scourer  of  it. 

"In  your  present,  as  in  all  your  future  undertakings  for  the 
service  of  truth,  your  have  the  best  wishes  of, 
"  Dear  sir, 
"  Your  faithful  friend  and  servant, 

"  Geo.  Moore." 

May  we  for  a  moment  pause  at  the  unusual  circumstance,  of 
ministers  of  the  establishment — high  churchmen — distinguished 
for  their  talents  and  erudition,  thus  tacitly  yielding  the  palm  of 
intellectual  superiority  to  a  man  in  humble  life — a  mechanic, 
or  recently  such, — and  a  Methodist  ?  One  of  these  gentlemen, 
who  had  condescended  to  be  Mr.  Drew's  literary  patron,  now 
calls  himself  his  "  friend  and  admirer  ;"  another  makes  his 
"  humble  confession  of  incompetency  to  give  any  opinion  of  the 


ESSAT  ON  THE  RESURRECTION. 


143 


work  on  which  Mr.  D.  should  rely ;"  and  a  third,  still  higher 
in  ecclesiastical  office,  would  "  feel  a  pride  and  pleasure  in 
being  employed  as  the  scourer  of  his  armour."  To  what  cause 
shall  we  ascribe  this  mental  obeisance  ?  Was  it  an  involuntary 
homage  to  mere  natural  strength  of  mind  ?  May  we  not  rather 
impuie  it  to  a  consciousness  that  those  high  intellectual  powers 
which  tlieir  possessor  was  exercising  in  the  cause  of  truth,  had 
been  quickened  and  invigorated  by  religion? 

The  intention  so  courteously  expressed  by  the  venerable 
archdeacon,  and  the  benefit  wiiich  might  have  accrued  to  the 
work  from  his  revision,  were,  alas  !  frustrated  by  his  untimely 
death, — tlie  indisposition  under  which  he  laboured,  when 
writing  the  preceding  letter,  being  but  the  precursor  of  speedy 
dissolution. 

5  Venturing  as  he  was  into  an  untried  region,  Mr.  Drew  felt 
anxious  to  have  his  arguments  thoroughly  sifted  before  he  gave 
them  to  the  public.  To  his  friend  JMr.  Clarke  he  was  indebted 
for  many  valuable  hints,  while  engaged  in  the  investigation  ; 
and  to  his  inspection,  and  that  of  his  literary  friends,  the  MS. 
was  finally  submitted. 

In  a  letter  to  Mr.  D.,  dated  October,  1806,  Mr.  Clarke  ob- 
serves : — "  The  plan,  as  far  as  you  have  favoured  me  with,  and 
I  understand  it,  of  your  piece  on  the  Kesurrection,  I  am  quite 
pleased  with.  I  do  not  see  any  thing  in  your  propositions 
which  can  at  all  be  considered  as  inimical  to  Divine  Revelation. 
Your  excessive  tenderness  on  this  point  I  highly  applaud.  If 
we  leave  this  Book,  in  all  spiritual  matters,  we  get  instantly  to 
sea,  without  rudder,  compass,  or  directing  star  ;  without  this  all 
is  uncertainty,  confusion,  and  hypothesis.  When  I  see  your 
work  I  shall  be  the  better  able  to  judge ;  and  perhaps  I  can 
dispose  of  it  among  some  of  the  principal  publishers  to  greater 
advantage  than  you  could  yourself." 

In  another  letter,  dated  March,  1807,  he  observes, 

"I  am  glad  you  are  coming  to  a  close  with  your  long  buried 

rork  ;  I  hope  it  will  soon  have  its  resurrection.  If  you  think 
am  your  friend,  make  no  sale  of  your  copyright  without  con- 
sulting me — I  know  more  of  this  subject  than  you  can.  It  is  a 
maxim  with  me  to  reserve  the  right  of  at  least  one  edition  of 
every  work  T  produce." 

In  the  two  letters  which  follow,  his  perusal  and  opinion  of 
Mr.  Drew's  work  are  intimated. 


144 


LIFE  OF  SAMCEL  DREW. 


"  To  Mr.  Samuel  Drew. 

"  London,  October  20,  1807.  ' 

"  Deau  Sir, 

"  Lest  you  should  be  anxious  without  sufllcient  cause,  I  deem 
it  necessary  to  give  you  a  little  information. 

"  As  your  '  Resurrection'  was  to  have  been  laid  before  the 
Philological  Society,  and  knowing  that  however  beneficial  their 
criticisms  might  be,  yet  there  was  no  likelihood  of  having  them 
soon,  I  wrote  to  the  society  and  got  them  to  adjourn  their 
meeting  to  London,  ad  interim.  As  there  are  Jive  members  of 
the  society  resident  in  London,  I  thought  we  might  be  able  to 
go  through  the  work  together,  and  lot  you  have  our  opinion. 
We  have  accordingly  begun,  have  gone  through  114  pages,  and 
intend  to  proceed  with  ii  till  all  is  done,  and,  in  the  end,  give 
you  the  sum  of  that  opinion  in  which  we  agree. 

"Have  you  finished  Dr.  Coke's  Philosophy  yet?  It  is  said 
here  you  are  writing  one  for  him. 

"  God  Almighty  bless  you  ! 

"  Yours  affectionately, 

"  A.  Clarke. 

"  1  wish  your  were  in  London. — I  could  here  bring  you  into 
being,  and  make  you  useful  to  yourself.'" 

"  London,  March  21,  1808. 

"  My  Dear  Sir, 
"  I  am  truly  sorry  that  I  could  not  pay  an  earlier  attention  to 
your  kind  epistle ;  but  I  have  lately  been  so  absolutely  over-  ■ 
worked,  that  I  have  not  only  been  knocked  up,  but  knocked 
doivn. 

"  The  attack  made  on  the  British  and  Foreign  Bible  Society, 
in  their  attempts  to  spread  tlie  sacred  writings  through  our 
eastern  possessions,  in  the  languages  of  the  natives,  called  me 
forth,  in  a  variety  of  ways,  to  help  to  stem  a  torrent  that  threat- 
ened to  sweep  away,  not  only  the  holy  Scriptures  from  India, 
but  also  every  thing  sacred  in  our  national  character. 

"  This  took  up  much  of  my  time.  Another  extraordinary 
circumstance  served  to  cramp  me  more  straitly.  I  was  applied 
to  by  government  to  assist  in  the  examination  of  the  ancient  re- 
cords of  this  kingdom.  On  this  business  I  wrote  an  essay,  and 
drew  up  a  plan  to  direct  the  searches  to  be  made  in  the  dif- 
ferent repositories.  This  occupied  no  small  portion  of  my 
lime,  and  is  but  just  finished, — my  papers  having  gone  to  the 


ESSAY  ON  THE  BESUKRECTION. 


145 


Right  Honourable  the  Speaker  so  late  as  the  18th  instant.  Add 
to  all  this  the  duties  of  my  office,  and  the  thousand  calls  my 
situation  here  exposes  me  to,  and  you  will  not  be  surprised  to 
hear  that  we  have  not  yet  been  able  to  get  through  your  MS. 
Had  it,  indeed,  been  a  common  work  we  had  finished  it  long 
ago,  for  we  have  had  several  long  sittings  at  it, — but  we  could 
take  in  but  little  at  a  time.  However,  we  have  got  through 
nearly  500  pages,  at  dilTerent  intervals  ;  from  which  I  am 
afraid  little  profitable  can  be  derived. 

"  I  have  been  so  engaged  that  I  could  not  spare  time  to  write 
down  my  thoughts,  though  I  delivered  several  half-liour  speeches 
on  the  subject  before  the  society,  which  all  the  members  agreed 
in  wishing  to  be  preserved  and  transmitted  to  you  :  but  to  me 
this  was  absolutely  impossible.  I  hope  soon  to  be  able  to  call 
another  meeting,  and  go  through  the  remaining  parts  ;  and  if, 
at  the  conclusion,  we  can  glean  up  any  fragments  that  may 
appear  to  be  of  use  to  you,  they  shall  be  transmitted.  My 
mind  is  perfectly  made  up  on  the  mode  of  publication  :  it  should 
be  by  snbscription, — and  if  you  have  courage  enough  to  face 
the  present  dearth  of  paper,  you  should  commence  your  appli- 
cation without  delay.  After  all  the  very  ingenious  and  excel- 
lent things  you  have  said  on  the  subject — things  of  great 
moment  in  themselves,  and  of  great  importance  even  insulated 
from  your  grand  argument — I  am  afraid  I  shall  still  feel  that 
the  doctrine  of  the  resurrection  is  a  mere  doctrine  of  Rece- 
lation,  and  that  reason  and  natural  analogies  will  afford  but 
feeble  lights  to  direct  us  through  the  palpable  obscure. 

"  Howsoever  your  labours  may  issue,  your  work  will  be  en- 
titled to  great  respect ;  as  no  common  mind  could  have  dared 
to  explore  a  path  that  the  vulture's  eye  had  not  seen,  and  to 
have  met  so  manfully  a  host  of  the  most  formidable  and  con- 
founding difficulties. 

"  As  a  testimony  of  my  approbation  of  the  importance  and 
value  of  your  labours,  you  may  set  me  down  as  a  subscriber 
for  twelve  copies. 

"  I  thank  you  for  your  friendly  congratulations — I  have  in- 
deed been  treated  far,  very  far,  beyond  my  merit — I  neither 
sought  nor  expected  the  literary  honours  I  have  received.  My 
degree  of  A.M.  I  received  in  the  most  honourable  way — that 
of  LL  D.  even  more  so,  if  possible — I  had  not  even  carriage  to 
pay.  But  the  honour  that  comeih  from  God  will  alone  stand 
me  in  stead  in  a  dying  hour. 

"  Hurried  as  I  am,  1  cannot  let  even  the  frank  go  empty. 
And  what  a  strange  thing  is  this  frank !  written  by  a  Methodist 


146 


LIFE  OF  SAMUEL  DEEW. 


local  preacher,  and  a  steady,  constant  member  of  society,  and 
a  class-leader  !  Poor  Methodism  ! — it  is  not  likely  to  be  always 
under  the  harrow. — But  query,  will  it  be  best  for  it  to  rise  in 
the  esteem  of  the  mighty  ?  That  a  Methodist  preacher  should 
ever  be  qualified  to  write  a  frank  is  a  strange  thing  ;  and  that 
another  should  be  solicited  to  assist  in  investigating  the  records 
of  the  country,  and  have  access  to  the  most  sacred  reposhories 
of  the  state,  is  not  less  so. 

"  Do  you  still  continue  to  preach  Jesus  and  the  Resurrec- 
tion t  May  God  be  with  you  !  My  love  to  all  my  old  friends 
in  St.  Austell. 

"  I  am,  my  dear  sir, 

"  Yours  aflectionately, 

"A.  Clarke. 

"  To  Mr.  Samuel  Drew,  St.  Austell,  Cornwall. 
"  Free,  Tho.  Thompson." 

The  MS.  being  at  length  returned  to  the  author,  he  made 
known  his  intention  of  publishing  by  subscription,  and  in  revis- 
ing it  for  the  press,  availed  himself  of  the  various  criticisms  it 
had  undergone.  Such  was  the  credit  given  to  Mr.  Drew's  tal- 
ents for  abstruse  inquiry,  that  his  application  to  the  public  was 
soon  answered  by  orders  for  more  than  eight  hundred  copies. 
Tlirough  tiie  kind  intervention  of  Dr.  Clarke,  overtures  for  the 
purchase  of  the  copyright  were  also  speedily  made  to  him  by 
the  proprietor  of  his  treatise  on  the  Soul.  Conceiving  that  it 
would  be  advantageous  to  retain  the  copyright  until  he  had  dis- 
posed of  the  first  impression,  he  at  first  declined  the  offer  to 
purchase.  Ultimately,  for  five  hundred  copies,  complete  in 
boards,  he  resigned  his  property  in  the  treatise  to  Mr.  Edwards, 
who  placed  so  much  reliance  on  the  merits  of  the  book,  and 
its  author's  celebrity,  as  to  hazard  an  edition  of  fifteen  hundred. 

The  work  was  published  in  April,  1809.  Writing  to  a 
friend,  on  the  10th  of  May,  the  author  says,  "I  have  not  seen 
it  since  it  was  in  MS.  ;  but  all  the  proof  sheets  have  been  exam- 
ined by  Adam,  the  first  of  men.  Whatever  usage  it  may  re- 
ceive from  the  critics,  I  shall  feel  a  solace  arising  from  the  rec- 
titude of  my  intentions."  In  the  following  August,  Mr.  Ed- 
wards, in  a  letter  to  Mr.  Drew,  remarks,  "  Your  new  Essay 
has  not,  I  believe,  been  reviewed  yet  by  any  one."  Before  the 
close  of  the  year  he  writes  thus : — "  I  have  now  left,  of  the 
last  work,  about  two  hundred  copies  unsold  ;  but  of  the  Essay 
on  the  Soul,  I  have  only  four  copies  remaining.    I  think  of  ven- 


ESSAY  ON  THE  KESPRRECTION. 


147 


luring  another  edition  of  this,  as  soon  as  I  get  your  corrected 
copy.  I  did  not  know,  till  last  week,  that  the  Anti-Jacobin 
had  reviewed  your  last  work ;  and  it  appears,  by  your  letter, 
that  you  are  unacquainted  with  it ;  however,  they  have  said  but 
little  about  it;  and  I  suppose  for  this  reason,  that  they  did  not 
know  well  how  to  treat  it; — it  is  in  the  number  for  September. 
I  believe  this  is  tiie  only  one  that  has  yet  noticed  it.  I  saw 
Mr.  Parken  last  week,  and  asked  him  if  any  person  was  re- 
viewing it  for  the  Eclectic.  He  gave  me  to  understand  that  it 
was  difficult  to  get  a  proper  person  to  do  it  justice..  I  would 
have  you  to  expedite  your  corrections  for  another  edition  of  the 
Essay  on  the  Body,  at  all  events  ;  as  I  hope  it  will  not  be  long 
before  I  shall  want  to  put  it  to  press  again." 

In  a  letter  from  a  London  bookseller,  of  the  same  year,  ap- 
pears this  request :  "  I  wish  you  could  contrive  to  send  me  a 

review  of  your  new  Essay  for  the  E  ,  M  .  They 

have  wished  me  to  get  a  review  of  it  by  some  friend  of 
mine ;  and  I  know  no  one  who  is  able  and  willing  to  do  it  in 
the  manner  that  it  deserves.  If  you  could  do  something  in 
that  way,  it  might  remain  a  secret  between  you  and  myself." 

The  hint  thus  given,  for  Mr.  Drew  to  criticise  his  own  per- 
formance, and  some  proposals  which  he  received  from  other 
quarters,  of  a  similar  purport,  raised  his  indignation.  "  Such 
things,"  he  observed,  "may  be  among  the  tricks  of  trade  ;  but 
never  will  I  soil  my  fingers  by  meddling  with  them.  My  work 
shall  honestly  meet  its  fate.  If  it  be  praised,  I  shall  doubtless 
be  gratified — if  censured,  instructed — if  it  drop  still  born  from 
the  press,  I  will  endeavour  to  be  contented."  Absolutely  still- 
born it  was  not  : — besides  the  Anti-Jacobin,  it  was  reviewed  in 
the  British  Critic.  But,  for  the  reason  assigned  by  Mr.  Ed- 
wards— the  difficulty  of  procuring  competent  reviewers — the 
book  obtained  less  notice  in  the  journals  of  the  day  than  was 
due  to  its  merit,  the  reputation  of  its  author,  and  the  impor- 
tance of  its  subject ;  and  possibly  from  this  cause,  the  second 
edition  of  the  treatise,  so  quickly  anticipated,  did  not  appear 
until  1822. 


148 


LIFE  OF  SAMUEL  DREW. 


SECTION  XVIII. 

Death  and  Memoir  of  Mr.  Whit^ker — Mr.  Drew's  illness — His  acquaint- 
ance with  Colonel  Sandys  and  Professor  Kidd — He  is  advised  to  write 
for  the  Burnet  prize. 

We  must  now  return  to  tlie  year  1808,  in  which  Mr.  Drew 
had  to  himent  the  decease  of  his  early  patron  and  constant 
friend,  the  Rev.  John  Whilaker.  To  departed  excellence  a 
tribute  is  always  due.  In  this  place  especially,  it  should  be 
paid  to  one"  whose  kind  and  fostering  care  cherished  Mr.  Drew's 
first  literary  undertakings,  and  decidedly  influenced  his  future 
destiny.  Nothing  has  been  said  ia  these  pages  of  the  char- 
acter and  talents  of  that  amiable  and  learned  man ;  for  the 
writer — one  of  another  generation — feels  his  incompetence  to 
the  task.  He  will,  therefore,  hold  himself  and  his  readers  in- 
debted to  the  pen  of  Mr.  Polwhele  for  a  brief  notice  of  this 
venerable  scholar  and  antiquarian. 

"John  Whitaktr  was  born  at  Manchester  in  1735.  In 
the  register  of  baj)tisms  at  the  Collegiate  parish  church  of  Christ, 
in  that  place,  we  find  he  was  baptized  on  the  lllh  of  May  in 
that  year.  Before  he  was  ten  years  of  age  he  was  entered  a 
scholar  of  the  Free  Grammar  School  at  Manchester.  In  1752, 
he  was  '  made  Exhibitioner  to  Oxford,  at  ten  pounds  per 
annum.'  He  was  elected  Scholar  of  C.C.C.  3d  of  March, 
1753  ;  and  Fellow  21st  of  January,  1763.  In  1759,  February 
27,  he  was  admitted  M.A. ;  and  in  1767,  July  1st,  he  pro- 
ceeded B.D. 

"It  appears  that  he  was  a  young  man  of  'great  peculiari- 
ties.' At  college  he  associated  with  very  few  ;  yet  not  from 
fastidiousness.  His  early  religiousness  was  apparent  in  his 
regularly  keeping  the  fast  of  Lent,  and  that  of  every  Friday 
throughout  the  year,  until  supper  time.  In  this  observance 
there  was  no  affectation  ;  if  the  uniform  simplicity  of  a  long 
life  will  authorize  such  an  assurance. 

"  In  1773  we  find  Mr.  W.  in  London,  the  Morning  Preacher 
of  Berkeley-chapel.  To  this  office  he  had  been  appointed  in 
November,  by  a  Mr.  Hughes,  but  in  less  than  two  months  was 


REV.  JOHN  WHITAKER. 


149 


removed  from  his  situation.  During  his  residence  in  London, 
Whiiaker  had  an  opportunity  of  conversing  with  several  of  our 
most  celebrated  writers  ;  among  whom  were  the  author  of  the 
Rambler,  and  the  historian  of  the  Roman  Empire.  With  Gib- 
bon Mr.  W.  was  intimately  acquainted  ;  and  the  MS.  of  the 
first  volume  of  'the  Decline  and  Fall  of  the  Roman  Empire' 
was  submitted  to  his  inspection.  But,  what  was  his  surprise, 
when,  as  he  read  the  same  volume  in  print,  that  chapter  which 
has  been  so  justly  obnoxious  to  the  Christian  world,  was  then, 
for  the  first  time,  introduced  to  his  notice  !  That  chapter  Gib- 
bon had  suppressed  in  the  MS.  overawed  by  Whitaker's  high 
character,  and  afraid  of  his  censure.  And,  in  fact,  that  the 
Deist  should  have  shrunk  from  his  indignant  eye,  may  well  be 
conceived,  when  we  see  his  Christian  principle  and  his  manly 
spirit  uniting  in  the  rejection  of  a  living  of  considerable  value, 
■which  was  at  that  time  offered  him  by  a  Unitarian  patron  :  he 
spurned  at  the  temptation,  and  pitied  the  seducer. 

"  That  men  of  genius  have  not  always  the  merit  of  patient 
exertion,  is  a  trite  remark.  And  certainly  splendid  talents  and 
studiousness  are  far  from  being  inseparable.  But  in  his  learned 
labours  Mr.  Whitaker  was  indefatigable  from  his  youth — even 
from  his  boyhood.  Notwithstanding  all  he  had  done,  I  heard 
him  speak,  not  many  months  before  his  death, of  'Notes  on 
Shakspeare,'  and  of  '  Illustrations  of  the  Bible.'  But  he  wished 
to  finish  his  '  Oxford,'  his  '  London,'  and  his  '  St.  Neot,'  be- 
fore he  resumed  his  '  Shakspeare,'  on  which  he  had  occasion- 
ally written  notes — and  to  lay  aside  his  '  Shakspeare'  before 
he  took  up  his  '  Bible.'  To  the  Bible  he  meant  to  withdraw 
himself,  at  last,  from  all  other  studies.  It  was  'the  Holy  of 
Holies,'  into  which  he  longed  to  enter  ;  and,  when  entered,  there 
to  abide.  All  this  Mr.  Whitaker  intended  to  do  ;  and  all  this, 
if  some  few  years  had  been  added  to  his  life,  he  would  probably 
have  done. 

"  With  a  view  to  the  last  three  antiquarian  productions,  he 
determined  to  visit  the  metropolis  :  and  thither  he  travelled, 
with  all  the  ardour  of  youthful  spirits.  But  even  for  his  ath- 
letic frame  he  had  a  mind  too  restless,  too  anxiously  inquisi- 
tive. Amid  his  remarks  into  the  antiquities  of  the  city,  his 
friends  detected  the  first  symptoms  of  bodily  decay.  His 
journey  to  London ;  his  daily  and  nightly  sallies,  while  there, 
in  pursuit  of  objects  started  every  now  and  then  to  the  eye  of 
the  antiqtiary ;  and  his  energetic  and  diversified  conversation 
Avith  literary  characters,  brought  on  a  debility,  which  he  little 
regarded,  till  it  alarmed  him  in  a  stroke  of  paralysis. 


ISO 


LIFE  OF  SAMUEL  DREW. 


•'Mr.  Whitaker's  greatness  as  a  writer,  no  one  can  question. 
And  that  he  was  good  as  well  as  great,  would  appear  in  the 
review  of  any  period  of  his  life ;  wliether  we  saw  him  aban- 
doning preferment  from  principle,  and  heard  him  'reasoning  of 
righteousness  and  judgment  to  come'  until  a  Gibbon  '  trem- 
bled or  whether,  among  his  parishioners,  we  witnessed  his 
unaffected  earnestness  of  preaching,  his  humility  in  conversing 
with  the  meanest  cottagers,  his  sincerity  in  assisting  ihem  with 
advice,  liis  tenderness  in  offering  them  consolation,  and  his 
charily  in  relieving  their  distresses.  * 

"  During  Mr.  Whitaker's  illness,  several  of  his  neighbours, 
who  to  all  appearance  had  been  alienated  from  him,  called  on 
him,  and  sympathized  in  his  sufferings,  with  every  token  of 
affectionate  attention.  And,  '  I  thank  God'  he  would  exclaim, 
'  for  this  visitation  !  I  am  happier  than  I  have  ever  been.  I 
am  departing  from  this  world  ;  and  I  see  at  my  departure  all 
ready  to  forgive  my  inadvertencies  and  errors — all  kindly  dis- 
posed towards  me  !'  His  decline  was  gradual.  Nor,  melan- 
choly as  it  was,  could  a  Christian  contemplate  it  without  pleas- 
ure ;  inasmuch  as  the  strength  of  his  faith  and  the  calmness  of 
his  resignation  were  more  and  more  visible,  under  the  con- 
viction that  he  was  labouring  under  a  disorder  from  which  he 
could  not  possibly  recover,  and  which  threatened  a  speedy  dis- 
solution. His,  in  fine,  were  tlie  faith  and  the  resignation  which 
might  have  been  judged  worthy  of  a  primitive  disciple  of  that 
Jesus,  in  whose  mercies  he  reposed,  and  to  whose  mediation 
alone  he  looked  with  humble  hope.  And  his  decease  was  such 
as  could  not  but  give  comfort  to  those  who  viewed  it;  when 
(on  October  30,  1808)  in  the  awful  hour  which  'seemed  open- 
ing upon  the  beatitudes  of  heaven,'  at  peace  with  liimself,  his 
fellow-creatures,  and  his  God,  he  sank  as  into  quiet  slumber, 
or  (to  use  the  patriarchal  language)  '  fell  asleep.' " 

The  funeral  obsequies  of  his  friend  Mr.  Drew  attended  ;  and 
he  felt  a  mournful  satisfaction  in  paying  this  last  duty  to  one 
to  whom  he  owed  so  many  obligations. 


The  only  serious  interruption  of  health  which  Mr.  Drew  ex- 
perienced, from  the  year  1798  until  a  short  time  previous  to 
his  decease,  occurred  in  1809.  To  one  of  his  correspondents, 
in  a  letter  dated  July,  in  tiiis  year,  he  thus  writes  : — "  You  may 
probably  recollect,  that  when  you  called  upon  me  I  complained 


ILL  HEALTH. 


151 


of  being  unwell.  Since  that  time  I  have  been  ill  of  a  slow 
fever,  and  am  but  just  recovered.  The  disorder,  through  Al- 
mighty goodness,  has  entirely  left  me ;  but  I  feel  myself  very 
much  debilitated,  and  am  at  present  but  badly  calculated  to 
enter  into  the  thorny  region  of  metaphysics."  For  the  re- 
coTery  of  his  health  he  resided  a  short  time  at  the  neighbour- 
ing sea-port  of  Fowey,  where  a  gentleman  connected  with  the 
custom-house  was  an  intimate  friend.  A  member  of  this  friend's 
family,  referring  to  the  period,  says,  "  It  happened  opportunely, 
that  the  day  before  Mr.  Drew  came  hither,  orders  were  re- 
ceived from  London,  that  the  officers  belonging  to  the  custom- 
boat  should  go  on  the  water  every  day  to  reconnoitre  the  coast 
to  the  extent  of  the  port,  for  some  specific  purpose  not  in  my 
recollection,  but  many  times  since  jocosely  asserted  by  Mr. 
Drew  to  he  for  his  benefit.'''    Such  was  certainly  its  result. 

It  is  Dr.  Franklin  who  suggests  the  propriety  of  occasion- 
ally inspecting  our  list  of  friends,  and  endeavouring,  by  the 
cultivation  of  new  acquaintances,  to  fill  up  the  blanks  which 
death  has  occasioned.  But  Mr.  Drew  needed  not  to  follow 
such  advice  ;  nor,  if  he  had,  would  his  independent  spirit  have 
yielded  to  that  necessity.  Modest  and  unobtrusive,  he  neither 
sought  the  company  nor  courted  the  acquaintance  of  any  one  ; 
nevertheless  the  friendship  of  men  of  learning  and  influence 
awaited  him. 

In  the  year  1809  he  became  intimate  with  the  late  Lieu- 
tenant-colonel Sandys,  of  Lanarih  House,  near  Helston.  This 
gentleman,  who  to  his  military  rank  added  the  higher  dignity 
of  the  Christian  believer,  esteemed  Mr.  Drew  for  his  work's 
sake,  and  made  him  a  tender  of  that  friendship  to  which  he 
would  not  have  presumed  unsolicited  to  aspire.  The  good 
colonel  and  he  visited  each  other ;  and  a  correspondence  was 
begun,  which  terminated  only  with  the  colonel's  death. 

About  twelve  months  after  Mr.  Whitaker's  decease,  the  let- 
ters which  follow  placed  Mr.  Drew  in  friendly  relationship 
with  another  literary  gentleman,  and  opened  a  long  and  valu- 
able correspondence  on  matapliysical  topics.  They  also  led 
him  to  undertake  his  most  elaborate  work — a  treatise  on  the 
Being,  Attributes,  and  Providence  of  God. 

"  Aberdeen,  17th  jVovember,  1809. 

"  Sir, 

"  Both  your  books  have  lately  fallen  into  my  hands.  They 
have  afforded  me  much  information  and  satisfaction  ;  and, 


152 


LIFE  OF  SAMUEL  DREW. 


though  metaphysics  lie  out  of  my  profession,  1  nm  fond  of  the 
study.  When  I  read  your  Dedication,  I  could  have  wished 
that  I  had  been  Rector  of  Ruan  Lanyhorn  when  you  first  pub- 
lished. When  I  read  your  Address,  1  admired  your  mind,  and 
felt  for  your  family  ;  and  from  that  moment  began  to  revolve, 
how  I  might  profit  merit  emerging  from  hardships.  I  have  at 
length  conceived  a  way  which  will,  in  all  likelihood,  put  you 
and  your  dear  infants  in  independence.  There  is  a  Prize  Es- 
say to  be  written  in  the  course  of  three  or  four  years  hence,  for 
which  the  sum  of  fifteen  hundred  pounds  will  be  given,  by  the 
will  of  a  man  who  died  in  this  city  lately.  I  may,  perhaps, 
mistake  the  exact  sum,  but  I  am  sure  it  is  above  a  thousand. 
Should  you  incline  to  try  your  pen  for  this  prize,  you  shall 
have  all  the  assistance  and  friendship  I  can  give. 

"Those  grateful  and  dignified  feelings  and  sentiments  which 
1  discover  in  your  books — above  all,  your  regard  for  the  holy 
Scriptures  and  tiie  cause  of  God,  I  admire,  and  will  assist  you, 
if  I  can.  May  I  then  entreat,  that  you  lay  aside  the  idea  of 
writing  against  Tom  Paine,  or  any  other  deistical  writer.  I 
believe  you  to  be  a  philosopher ;  but,  you  will  permit  me  to 
say,  such  labour  is  not  philosophic.  The  only  way  to  serve 
the  cause  of  the  Redeemer,  is  to  publish  the  truth  without  any- 
more argument  than  is  quite  necessary  to  establish  the  point 
in  hand  ; — this  was  the  way  He  preached,  and  his  apostles 
followed  him.  When  you  wrangle  with  dead  authors,  you 
have  so  much  to  quote,  and  so  much  to  say,  that  not  a  reader 
in  a  thousand  can  follow  both  sides ;  your  efforts,  therefore, 
should  be  directed  to  the  display  of  truth  by  itself: — forgive 
my  freedom. 

"  The  subject  of  the  Essay  is  '  The  evidence,  independently 
oi"  Revelation,  tliat  there  is  a  Being  all-powerful,  wise,  and 
good,  by  whom  every  thing  exists.' 

"  Should  you  please  to  favour  me  with  an  answer,  I  shall 
continue  a  correspondence,  and  explain  and  inform  you  of  all 
particulars. 

"  With  best  wishes  for  yourself  and  family, 
"  I  am,  sir, 

"  Your  sincere  humble  servant, 

"  .Tames  Kidp. 

"  To  Mr.  Samuel  Drew, 
"Author  of  the  Essay  on  the  Soul  and  the  Body, 
"  St.  Austell,  Rnan  Lanyhorne, 
"  Cornwall. 


THE  BURNET  PRIZE. 


153 


"  St.  Austell,  Cornwall,  Nov.  27tli,  1809. 
"  Rev.  and  dear  Sir, 
"  When  your  very  polite  and  very  affectionate  letter  reached 
me,  I  knew  not  whether  the  surprise  or  the  gratitude  w  hich  it 
occasioned  was  the  most  predominant.  My  surprise  was  ex- 
cited by  the  thought,  that  any  thing  I  had  written,  or  was 
capable  of  writing,  should  awaken  the  solicitude  of  a  learned 
stranger  for  the  welfare  of  my  family  ;  and  my  gratitude  was 
arrested  by  the  manner  in  which  that  solicitude  expressed 
itself,  in  tlie  language  of  benevolence  and  friendship.  For 
your  kindness  in  writing,  your  manner  of  doing  it,  and  the  mo- 
tives which  led  you  to  it,  be  pleased  to  accept  my  sincerest 
thanks. 

"On  the  subject  of  your  letter,  I  feel  myself  at  a  loss  how 
to  express  my  views,  or  in  what  manner  to  return  an  answer. 
I  must  candidly  confess,  that  I  know  of  no  subject,  within  the 
whole  circle  of  theology,  that  is  more  congenial  with  my 
habits  of  reflection  than  that  which  is  proposed  for  the  prize 
essay.  It  is  a  subject  on  which  I  have  often  turned  my  thoughts 
with  pleasure,  and  enjoyed  a  grateful  satisfaction,  while  reflect- 
ing on  those  decisive  evidences  with  which  God  has  furnished 
us  of  his  own  existence  and  perfections. 

"  Still,  however,  the  circumstances  which  forbid  me  to  com- 
ply with  your  request  appear  too  numerous  and  too  formidable 
for  my  inclination  and  judgment  to  overcome,  even  though 
allured  by  a  bait,  which,  while  it  invites,  must  be  witheld  from 
my  grasp,  even  by  its  own  greatness.  The  inducement  which 
it  holds  out,  will,  of  course,  awaken  the  attention  of  some  of 
the  first  geniuses  of  the  United  Kingdom  ;  and  I  cannot  for  a 
moment  harbour  the  idea  of  contending  with  such  exalted 
characters,  who  enjoy  all  the  advantages  of  learning,  leisure, 
and  superior  talents,  without  associating  with  it  some  notions 
of  vanity  and  presumption.  England,  no  doubt,  will  produce 
new  Lockes  and  Clarkes,  and  Scotland  new  Beatiies  and 
Reids  ;  and  I  can  hardly  arrogate  to  myself  the  character  of 
becoming  their  rival,  without  placing  myself  in  the  situation  of 
Andromeda,  who,  contending  with  the  Nereides  for  the  prize  of 
beauty,  was  by  them  bound  to  a  rock,  and  condemned  to  be 
devoured. 

"  Such,  my  dear  sir,  are  the  feelings  which  your  letter  has 
excited  in  my  bosom.  I  will  not  say  that  farther  communica- 
tions cannot  suppress  them  ;  but,  under  present  circumstances, 
I  should  smile  at  my  own  folly,  in  attempting  to  become  a 
competitor  with  the  best  metaphysicians  in  the  empire. 


154 


LIFE  OF  SAMUEL  DREW. 


"I  will,  nevertheless,  thank  you  to  inform  me — What  must 
be  the  probable  extent  of  the  expected  essay? — Must  its  author 
investigate  ami  refute  the  systems  of  atheism  which  have  im- 
posed upon  the  world  from  Lucretius  to  Hume  ? — Is  the  author 
forbidden  to  use  any  of  those  ideas  which  others  have  adopted 
to  prove  the  existence  of  a  God  ? — or  are  these  particulars  left 
to  tiie  choice  and  determination  of  those  who  write  ?  If  this 
latter  be  the  case,  were  I  to  enter  the  lists,  my  wish  would  be 
to  concentrate  those  ideas  whicli  I  shoidd  deem  necessary  to 
establish  the  demonstration,  leaving  Hobbes,  Spinoza,  and 
Bolingbroke  to  slumber  with  Voltaire. 

"  The  sacred  writings  I  hope  I  shall  never  cease  to  venerate 
as  the  great  repository  of  moral  truth.  I  view  them  with  rev- 
erence, and  bow  before  them  with  homage ;  and  trust  I  shall 
never  indulge  myself  in  any  speculations  which  will  incline 
me  to  depart  from  this  sacred  standard  of  religious  knowl- 
edge. 

"I  feel  highly  gratified  that  the  two  essays  which  I  have 
already  written  have  been  so  fortunate  as  to  afford  you  any  sat- 
isfaction. Every  token  of  approbation  inspires  me  with  new 
vigour  to  exert  myself  in  promoting,  to  the  irtmostof  my  power, 
the  cause  of  God  among  mankind.  Hitherto  I  believe  the  lat- 
ter work  has  not  passed  the  ordeal  of  the  reviewers,  nor  can  I 
anticipate  the  destiny  which  awaits  it.  I  am  sorry  to  find 
that  there  are  several  typographical  errors  scattered  through  the 
volume ;  some  of  which  cause  obscurity  in  the  pages  in  which 
they  appear.  My  manuscript  was  copied  in  a  fair  hand,  which 
I  thought  would  have  rendered  my  superintendence  of  the  press 
unnecessary.  Experience,  however,  has  tauglit  me  a  different 
lesson.  The  printer  has  just  informed  me  that  he  expects  a 
second  edition  will  be  wanted  soon  after  Christmas,  when  I  hope 
these  errors  will  be  removed.  A  third  edition  of  my  '  Essay 
on  the  Soul'  will  go  to  press  almost  immediately  ;  but  in  this 
I  have  no  pecuniary  interest,  as  I  sold  the  copyright  before  it 
had  received  the  public  opinion. 

"1  rejoice  to  concur  with  you  on  the  impropriety  of  wrang- 
ling with  dead  authors.  Long  quotations  to  me  are  irksome, 
and,  though  necessary  on  such  occasions,  rarely  fail  to  involve 
intricacies  which  few  are  inclined  to  trace.  My  pamphlet 
against  Paine  was  the  first  thing  I  ever  submitted  to  the  pub- 
lic eye  ;  and,  though  1  believe  a  friend  of  mine  is  now  about  to 
reprint  it,  by  my  permission,  it  engrosses  no  part  of  my  time, 
nor  have  I  any  interest  in  the  issue. 

"  Kuan  Lanyhorne,  in  which  parish  my  good  friend  Whita- 


THE  BURNET  PRIZE. 


155 


ker  once  resided,  is  about  twelve  miles  from  this  place ;  and 
its  name  on  the  direciion  of  my  letters  is  calculated  rather  to 
prevent  me- from  receiving  them,  than  to  bring  tiiem  to  me.  I 
will  therefore  thank  you,  in  future,  to  direct  to  Samuel  Drew, 
St.  Austell,  Cornwall. 

"  With  my  best  wishes  for  your  welfare,  and  sincerest  grati- 
tude for  your  kind  intentions  to  benefit  me  and  my  family,  I 
remain, 

"  Reverend  and  dear  sir, 

"  Your  very  humble  servant, 

"Samuel  Drew, 

"  Rev.  Professor  James  Kidd, 
Maris chal  College,  Aberdeen.'^ 

"  Aberdeen,  8th  Decemljcr,  1809. 

"Dear  Sik, 

"  Your  welcome  favour  of  the  27th  iilt.  duly  arrived.  I 
thank  you  for  opening  the  correspondence. 

"  Notwithstanding  your  modest  views  of  your  own  abilities, 
and  the  becoming  diffidence  of  success  you  express,  yet  some- 
how I  have  a  faint  hope — or  something  stronger.  Metaphysi- 
cians of  the  description  you  mention  will  not,  in  my  opinion, 
take  up  their  time  with  the  subject  of  the  Essay.  Their 
views  will  natairally  be  turned  to  general  knowledge  of  the 
human  mind ;  and,  being  at  ease,  either  in  places  of  colleges 
or  the  lap  of  fortune,  they  will  not  readily  turn  aside  for  the 
prize.  And  if  they  did,  they  might  not  take  such  views  as 
you  ;  and  the  Essay  may  be  published,  though  unsuccessful. 
Mr.  Dugald  Stewart,  Professor  of  Moral  Philosophy  in  the 
university  of  Edinburgh,  is  at  present  perhaps  the  most  fa- 
mous in  that  department  of  literature  ;  but  he  is  old,  and  likely 
will  not  make  the  attempt. 

"  The  regulations  relative  to  the  direction  and  proceeding 
of  the  judges  of  the  Essays  that  may  be  written,  have  been 
published  in  most  of  the  newspapers,  both  in  Scotland  and  Eng- 
land.   In  one  of  them  you  can  see  all  that  I  could  write. 

"  In  your  long  note,  section  VIL,  on  the  subject  of  Instinct 
and  Reason,  in  your  Essay  on  the  Soul,  you  appear  to  ground 
decree  upon  infinite  power.  I  should  presume,  from  what  I 
understand  of  the  note,  that  you  espouse  rather  the  Arminian 
than  the  Calvinistic  view  of  the  subject ;  but  I  am  not  certain. 
***** 

"  That  God  may  direct  you  and  your  family  in  the  way  of 


156 


tIFE  OF  SAMUEL  DREW. 


life  and  peace,  and  bring  you  and  thenn  at  last  into  his  heavenly 
kingdom,  is  the  earnest  wish  and  prayer  of, 
"  Dear  sir, 

"Your  sincere  humble  servant, 

"  James  Kidd. 

"  Mr.  Samuel  Drew.^'' 

"  St.  Austell,  Cornwall,  Dec.  23,  1809. 

"Dear  Sir, 

"  I  hate  ingratitude  ;  and  yet  sometimes  walk  so  near  its 
borders,  by  apparently  neglecting  those  who  are  solicitous  for 
my  welHsre  and  reputation,  iliat  I  expose  myself  to  the  imputa- 
tion of  being  ungrateful,  without  designing  to  incur  it,  or  de- 
serving the  appellation.  I  have  omitted  to  answer  your  affec- 
tionate letter  till  the  present  time,  thai  I  might  furnish  myself 
with  the  advertisement  to  which  you  alluded.  This  1  have 
obtained,  and  the  paper  is  now  before  me.  It  contains  satis- 
factory information,  and  seems  fairly  laid  down,  on  impartial 
principles.  In  sliort,  it  contains  an  answer  to  almost  every 
question  which  can,  with  propriety,  be  proposed.*    I  sincerely 

*  The  advertisement,  which  first  appeared  in  1807,  is  as  follows  : — 
'  A  gentleman,  deceased,  has  bequeathed  a  sum,  not  less  than  twelve  hun- 
dred pounds,  to  be  paid  to  the  person  who  shall  write,  and  lay  before  the 
Judges,  to  be  appointed  as  after-mentioned,  a  treatise,  which  shall  by 
them  be  determined  to  have  the  most  merit,  upon  the  following  subjects, 
as  expressed  in  his  will, — viz. 

"  'The  Evidence,  that  there  is  a  Beino,  all-powerful,  wise,  and  good, 
by  whom  every  thing  exists  ;  and  particularly  to  obviate  difficulties  re- 
garding the  Wisdom  and  Goodness  of  the  Deity  ;  and  this,  in  the  first 
place,  from  considerations  independent  of  Written  Revelation  ;  and,  in 
the  second  place,  from  the  Revelation  of  the  Lord  Jesus  ;  and,  from  the 
whole,  to  point  out  the  inferences  most  necessary  for,  and  useful  to,  man- 
kind.' 

"  To  the  person  who  shall  write,  and  lay  before  the  said  Judges,  a 
Treatise  on  the  sul)ject  above-mentioned,  which  shall  be  found  by  them 
next  in  merit  to  the  former,  the  Testator  further  bequeaths  a  sum,  not 
less  than  four  hundred  pounds,  after  deducting  therefrom  the  expense 
of  printing  and  binding,  or  purchasing  two  hundred  printed  copies  of  each  i 
of  the  said  Treatises. 

"  The  Ministers  of  the  Established  Church  at  Aberdeen,  the  Principals 
and  Professors  of  King's  and  Marischal  Colleges  of  Aberdeen,  and  the 
Trustees  of  the  said  Testator,  are  appointed  to  nominate  and  make  choice 
of  three  Judges,  who  are  to  decide,  agreeably  to  certain  rules  prescribed 
in  the  deed  of  settlement,  upon  the  comparative  merit  of  such  Treatises 
as  shall  be  laid  before  them. 

"  The  time  allowed  by  the  Testator,  for  the  composition  of  these  Trea- 
tises, extends  to  the  first  of  January,  1814  ;  and  his  Trustees  do  now 
intimate,  in  compliance  with  his  appointment,  that  those  who  shall  become 


THE  BURNET  FBIZE. 


157 


lhank  you  for  your  friendly  attention,  and  beg  you  to  accept  my 
grat€ful  acknowledgments,  as  the  only  requital  which  it  is  in 
my  power  to  make. 

"  The  writings  of  Mr.  Stewart,  whom  you  mention,  I  have 
not  seen,  unless  through  the  citations  made  by  a  Mr.  R.  E. 
Scott,  Professor  of  Moral  Philosopiiy,  Aberdeen,  on  the  '  Ele- 
ments of  Intellectual  Philosophy.'  His  work  I  have.  It  is 
probable  you  are  personally  acquainted  witli  him.  Do  you 
think  he  will  become  a  competitor  I  It  is,  however,  of  little 
consequence  to  inquire :  every  person  has  a  right ;  and  the 
united  efforts  of  all  will,  most  probably,  augment  the  general 
stock  of  argumentative  proof,  and  give  to  truth  herself  an  addi- 
tional lustre,  by  depriving  her  of  some  shades  with  which  she 
has  long  been  enveloped.  I  shall  esteem  myself  happy,  if  any 
thing  I  can  write  may  contribute  to  so  desirable  an  event. 

"  On  the  subject  of  my  note,  your  views  were  rightly  founded. 
I  hare  embraced  the  Arminian  rather  than  the  Calvinistic  side 
of  the  question,  on  that  subject  to  which  the  note  alluded.  But 
I  have  by  no  means  waded  into  those  depths  into  which  some 
have  plunged  tiiemselves.  I  l)elong  to  the  Wesleyan  Metho- 
dists, and  have  so  upwards  of  twenty  years.  I  occasionally 
preach  among  them  on  Sabbatli-days. 

"  As  to  our  principles,  I  presume  they  are  known  to  you,  from 
the  circumstance  I  have  mentioned.  I  admit  the  total  depravity 
of  human  nature;  the  atonement  made  by  Jesus  Christ;  the 
divinity  of  his  person  ;  the  full  efficacy  of  his  grace  ;  our  utter 
inability  to  help  ourselves  without  supernatural  aid  ;  and  that 
to  this,  from  first  to  last,  we  are  indebted  for  our  salvation.  It 
is  God  who  must  begin,  support,  carry  on,  and  complete  the 
work ;  so  that,  through  eternity,  we  must  ascribe  all  our  sal- 
vation to  sovereign  favour. 

"  1  have  thus  stated  the  leading  features  of  my  principles,  so 
far  as  they  appear  likely  to  awaken  your  solicitude.  You,  I 
perceive,  have  embraced  the  Calvinistic  views  of  the  gospel. 
I  am  not  disposed  to  differ  with  any  one  who  holds  the  essen- 

competitors  for  the  said  Prizes  must  transmit  their  Treatises  to  Alexander 
Galen,  Esq.,  Merchant,  in  Aberdeen,  in  time  to  be  with  him  on  or  before 
the  first  daj'  of  January,  1814  ;  as  none  can  be  received  after  that  date  ; 
and  they  must  be  sent  free  of  all  expense  to  the  Trustees. 

"  The  Judges  will  then,  without  delay,  proceed  to  examine  and  decide 
upon  the  comparative  merits  of  such  Treatises  as  shall  be  laid  before 
them  ;  and  the  Trustees  will,  at  the  first  term  of  Whitsunday,  after  the 
determination  of  the  Judges,  pay  the  Premiums  to  the  successful  candi- 
dates, agreeably  to  the  Will  of  the  Testator." 

o 


158 


LIFE  OF  SAMUEL'  DREW. 


tial  doctrines  of  Christianity ;  and  hope  that  few  enlightened 
minds,  if  influenced  by  Divine  grace,  are  destitute  of  the  same 
liberality.  1  correspond  with  several  Calvinists  ;  but  I  hope 
we  have  learned  the  lesson  of  the  good  old  patriarch — '  See 
that  ye  fall  not  out  by  the  way.' 

"  How  far  this  brief  avowal  of  my  sentiments  may  clash 
witli  the  doctrines  expected  to  be  inculcated  in  the  projected 
essay,  I  am  not  able  to  conjecture.  If  it  is  to  be  assumed  on 
parly  ground,  or  to  have  its  merits  or  demerits  decided  by  its 
approximation  to  any  private  sentiments  not  essential  to  salva- 
tion, I  will  decline  at  once  all  thoughts  about  it.  An  essay  of 
this  nature  should  inculcate  nothing  but  general  trutli.  Ar- 
minianisni  and  Calvinism  should  be  aWke  kept  out  of  sight. 
Neither  particular  nor  universal  redemption  should  appear.  In 
my  opinion,  its  great  end  will  be  defeated  the  instant  that  it 
becomes  a  vehicle  of  those  positions  for  which  the  different 
branches  of  llie  religious  world  have  been  contending  for  more 
than  ten  centuries.  If  I  become  a  candidate,  it  shall  be  on 
those  general  principles  to  wliich  we  all  resort.  Any  question 
which  may  arise  with  you,  on  any  sentiment  which  you  may 
think  I  have  not  expressed  with  sufficient  clearness,  I  will 
thank  you  to  state,  and  it  will  be  answered  with  the  utmost 
readiness  by, 

"  Rev.  and  dear  sir, 

"  Yours  most  sincerely, 

"  Samiikl  Drew. 

"  Rev.  Vrofessoi-  James  Kidd." 

Professor  Kidd,  whose  disinterested  friendship  for  Mr.  Drev? 
commands  admiration,  had,  like  him,  to  contend  in  early  life 
witli  difficulties,  and  was  also  enabled,  by  talent  and  perse- 
verance, to  triumph  over  them.*  This  similarity  of  circum- 
stances prohal)iy  awakened  the  professor's  attention,  and  ex- 
cited his  sympathy. 

In  reference  to  their  intimacy,  Mr.  Drew  remarks,  "  Happy, 
extremely  happy  should  I  have  thought  myself,  if,  before  the 
cares  of  a  family  engrossed  my  attention,  1  had  been  so  fortu- 
nate as  to  open  a  correspondence  with  you,  or  with  any  one 
who,  under  the  auspices  of  Christianity,  would  have  '  taught 
the  young  idea  how  to  shoot.'  But  I  have  much  greater  reason 
for  gratitude  that  any  literary  ciiaracters  have  condescended 

♦  For  a  sketch  of  this  gentleman's  life  the  reader  is  referred  to  the  Im- 
perial Magazine,  for  January,  1826. 


THE  PKIZE  ESSAY. 


159 


to  notice  me,  than  to  complain  that  liiey  did  not  assist  me  at 
the  '  birth  of  intellect.'  I  hope  my  acquaintance  with  Pro- 
fessor Kidd  will  form  a  new  epoch  in  the  detail  of  events  ;  and 
if  the  memoirs  of  my  li-fe  were  to  be  handed  to  posterity,  this 
circumstance  would  furnish  a  new  era  to  my  biographer." 


SECTIOxV  XIX. 

Treatise  on  the  Being  and  Attributes  of  the  Deity  undertaken — As  a 
Prize  Essay  it  is  unsuccessful — Air.  Drew  thinks  of  editing  a  pro- 
vincial newspaper — His  "  Arguments  on  the  Divinity  of  Christ,"  and 
"  Reply  to  Thomas  Prout,"  published. 

Fkom  Mr.  Drew's  literary  correspondence  in  1810,  it  is  ap- 
parent that  his  feelings  had  begun  to  respond  to  tlie  solicitations 
of  his  northern  friend,  respecting  the  Prize  Essay.  At  this 
period  his  engagement  witli  Dr.  Coke  had  so  far  monopolized 
his  time,  that  he  could  devote  but  a  few  of  his  evening  hours  to 
this  arduous  undertaking.  Besides  the  casual  interruptions  to 
which  he  was  always  subject,  his  lectures  on  grammar  and 
geography,  already  described,  which  he  delivered  on  this  and 
several  succeeding  years,  left  him  little  leisure.  Thus  cir- 
cumstanced, a  rapid  progress  in  the  difficult  task  which  he  had 
chosen  would  have  been  impossible. 

The  vacant  moments  of  1810  were  devoted  to  preparatory 
reading.  In  1811  he  began  to  write  on  the  subject  proposed  ; 
and  in  1812  the  work  was  so  far  advanced  as  to  occasion  the 
request  which  is  implied  in  the  following  letter  to  him. 

'OIv  DEAR  Sir, 
"I  lose  no  time  in  answering  your  kind  letter.  I  consider 
the  confidence  which  you  repose  in  me  as  highly  flatteiing. 
I  will  readily  endeavour  to  serve  you  in  the  matter  which  you 
mention,  as  far  as  the  narrow  compass  of  my  ability  reaches. 
It  has  been  proverbially  observed,  that  a  standcr-by  sometimes 
sees  more  into  the  game  tlian  tlie  player.  Something  like  this 
occurs  in  authorship.  A  writer  who  has  long  and  intensely 
directed  his  attention  to  one  subject,  in  fixing  upon  certain  par- 
ticular favourite  points,  may  be  disposed  to  overlook  oilier 
points  which  are  obvious  and  important  in  the  views  of  an 
differcnt  person ;  dwelling  also  upon  parts,  he  may  be  deficient 


160 


LIFE  OF  SAMUEL  DREW- 


in  the  due  proportion  and  the  adjustment  of  the  whole.  Few 
authors,  when  they  examine  a  work  of  their  own  which  has 
been  suffered  to  lie  by  for  any  season,  retain  the  vividness  and 
partialities  of  first  impressions  so  strongly  as  not  to  retouch, 
retrench,  or  add  something  that  then  appears  to  be  preferable. 
The  intervening  interval  of  time  places  these  authors  in  the 
situation  of  indifferent  persons,  to  a  certain  degree. 

"  As  I  really  wish  you  well,  and  respect  your  abilities,  I 
should  be  glad  to  forward  any  work  which  may  tend  to  your 
credit  and  profit. :  and  I  shall  feel  interested  in  the  success  of 
your  work.  In  writing  for  a  prize,  on  such  a  subject,  you  must 
be  careful  that  your  arguments  be  not  too  recondite  and  far- 
fetched :  obvious  and  easy  arguments  in  such  cases  are  gene- 
rally the  best, — those  which  occur  to  him  who  reads  soberly 
and  seriously  the  book  of  Nature  and  the  book  of  Revelation. 
If  you  will  send  your  MS.  directed  to  me,  to  be  left  at  the  Rev. 
George  Moore's,  Grampound,  I  will,  without  delay,  peruse  it, 
and  honestly  do  by  it  as  I  would  wish  to  be  done  by  ;  and  I 
hope  to  retm-n  it  before  the  time  which  you  mention.  I  hope, 
in  the  course  of  the  summer,  to  have  the  pleasure  of  seeing  you 
here. 

"  Believe  me  to  be, 

"  Yours  very  truly,  and  in  haste, 

"  William  Gregor. 

''Creed,  Jvhj  12,  1812." 

On  receiving  the  manuscript,  with  Mr.  Gregor's  valuable 
remarks,  Mr.  Drew  commenced  the  revision  of  his  work,  and 
bestowed  considerable  labour  on  its  abridgment — following  up, 
in  this  and  other  respects,  his  kind  friend's  suggestions.  At 
the  same  time  he  availed  himself  of  the  valuable  hints  of  Pro- 
fessor Kidd,  who  greatly  interested  himself  in  the  progress  of 
the  Essay,  and  corresponded  frequently  with  its  author.  Thus 
aided,  he  completed  the  revision,  had  the  whole  transcribed, 
and  early  in  1813  again  laid  it  before  Mr.  Gregor,  who  thus 
expresses  his  opinion  :  — 

"  I  return  your  manuscript.  You  will  find  my  pencil  notices 
very  few.  I  have  read  the  whole  over  carefully,  and  I  think 
that  you  have  very  materially  improved  your  Essay,  by  con- 
densation, &-C.  Your  language  is  simple  and  perspicuous,  and 
in  cases  that  demand  it,  it  possesses  great  strength  and  energy. 
I  feel  much  interest  in  the  success  of  your  work.  It  possesses 
so  much  merit,  that  it  is  not  my  wishes  alone  that  make  me  san- 
guine as  to  its  success.    It  appears  to  me  that  you  have  pur- 


THE  PRIZE  ESSAY. 


161 


•lied  the  line  marked  out  for  you  in  the  advertisement,  and 
fulfilled  its  conditions.  And  what  momentous  subjects  have 
you  investigated  !  Amid  si/ch  contemplations  the  world  and  the 
things  of  the  world  appear  but  as  the  mere  dust  in  the  balance." 

At  the  close  of  1813  the  Essay  was  forwarded  to  Aberdeen, 
and,  in  company  with  about  fifty  competitors,  submitted  to  the 
appointed  judges.  Their  decision  was  not  announced  until 
August,  1815.  The  first  premium  was  then  adjudged  to 
William  Lawrence  Brown,  D.D.,  Principal  of  Marisclial  Col- 
lege, Aberdeen,  and  tlie  second  to  John  Bird  Sumner,  M.A., 
Fellow  of  Eton  College. 

Never  having  been  so  sanguine,  in  reference  to  the  Essay, 
as  his  literary  friends  were,  Mr.  Drew  expressed  less  regret 
than  they  did  at  his  want  of  success.  To  a  member  of  his 
family,  in  a  letter  dated  September  2,  1815,  he  uses  these 
words : — "  It  was  while  I  was  in  Falmouth,  that  two  letters 
were  forwarded  to  me  from  Professor  Kidd,  announcing  the 
decision  of  the  judges  on  the  Prize  Essays.  Of  this  no  doubt 
the  papers  have  informed  you.  My  expectations  were  never 
very  high;  and  the  number  of  candidates  had  led  me  further  to 
moderate  my  hopes — so  that  I  was  prepared  for  a  disappoint- 
ment. I  felt  a  little,  for  a  few  minutes  ;  but  it  soon  subsided, 
and  left  me  as  I  was  before.  I  have  written  to  Mr.  Kidd,  fur- 
nishing him  with  my  motto,  and  requestmg  him  to  take  up  the 
MS.,  and  keep  it  for  his  inspection  until  I  desire  him  to  for- 
ward it.  I  am  very  anxious  to  peruse  the  Essays  to  which 
the  prizes  have  been  adjudged." 

His  kind  friend  Mr.  Gregor  in  a  note  of  condolence  observes, 
"  I  had  flattered  myself  that  you  would  have  gained  one  of  the 
prizes ;  for  I  thought  it  highly  probable  that  what  you  had 
written  would  contain  more  original  thoughts  upon  the  subject 
than  the  works  of  other  candidates  who  had  periiaps  read 
more  deeply  and  learnedly  than  yourself.  I  am  glad  however 
that  you  are  so  soon  reconciled  to  the  event,  and  that  you  in- 
tend to  publish  your  book  in  some  form  or  other." 

Professor  Kidd  observes,  shortly  afterward,  "  I  have  glanced 
through  several  places  of  your  Essay,  and  it  strikes  me  at 
present  that  the  extreme  profundity  of  thought  which  it  con- 
tains was  against  it.  I  hesitate  not  to  say,  that  the  one  which 
gained  the  prize  was  nothing  like  so  deep."  With  this  gentle- 
man the  MS.  remained  a  considerable  time,  and  was  benefited 
by  his  careful  revision.  Its  publication,  which  was  deferred 
for  several  years,  Mr.  Gregor  did  not  live  to  see. 

O  2 


162 


LIFE  OF  SAMUEL  DREW. 


In  an  early  part  of  this  memoir  Mr.  Drew  informs  us  that 
he  had  escaped  from  the  sea  of  politics.  There  was  a  proba- 
bility, in  1812,  that  lie  would  again  embark  on  it.  The  Me- 
thodist Conference  having  this  year  become  the  proprietors  of 
all  Dr.  Coke's  literary  properly,  the  engagement  between  the 
doctor  and  Mr.  D.  was  so  far  modified  as  to  leave  the  time  of 
the  latter  at  his  own  disposal.  Thus  circumstanced,  for  a 
season,  without  that  regular  occupation  which  he  wished,  he 
seriously  contemplated  accepting  the  editorship  of  a  provincial 
newspaper. 

Mr.  Thomas  Flindell,  the  then  proprietor  and  editor  of  the 
Cornwall  Gazette,  whose  name  appears  in  connection  with  Mr. 
Drew's  first  publications,  wishing  to  quit  the  county  in  the  au- 
tumn of  1812,  ofiered  to  transfer  to  Mr.  D.  his  entire  concern. 
Political  discussion  was  now  so  far  from  his  ordinary  train  of 
thinking,  that  had  he  not  been  at  the  time  whhout  beneficial 
employment,  he  would  not  have  deferred  a  negative  reply. 
Situated  as  he  was,  he  thought  it  expedient  to  consult  some 
friends  on  whose  judgment  lie  placed  considerable  reliance. 
Their  opiniens  were  thus  expressed  : — 

"  LonJon,  Harpur-street,  Nov.  9,  1812. 
"  My  dear  Brother  Drew, 
"  I  would  have  answered  your  letter  sooner,  but,  owing  to 
his  continual  engagements,  could  not  get  an  opportunity  of 
consulting  Mr.  Butierworth.  We  are  both  of  opinion  that,  for 
the  present,  you  had  best  accept  of  the  editorstiip  in  question, 
provided  you  find  you  are  not  obliged  to  sacrifice  any  moral  or 
spiritual  principle  :  if  you  must  put  in  every  thing  that  a  fiery 
partisan  of  a  proprietor  may  tliink  proper,  then  you  will  have 
notliing  but  mortification  and  heart-burning  in  the  work.  From 
what  I  have  seen  of  the  Cornish  papers,  I  am  led  to  think 
that,  on  both  sides,  they  are  outrageously  violent — nay,  abu- 
sive. In  such  a  cause  as  this  you  should  not  engage ;  nor  be 
obliged  to  vindicate  the  measures  of  any  set  of  men  through 
thick  and  thin.  This  I  find  both  sides  invariably  practise,  in 
reference  to  the  party  they  espouse.  On  any  ground,  I  would 
not  wish  you  to  have  any  thing  to  do  with  a  republican  paper : 
that  in  question,  being  on  the  government  side,  has  more  to 
recommend  it.  My  maxims  on  this  point  lie  in  small  compass. 
The  constitution  is  good, — it  is  the  best  under  the  sun, — 
it  can  scarcely  be  mended.  The  executive,  government,  at  any 
time,  may  be  bad,  or  may,  in  particular  cases,  adopt  bad  mea-  \ 
sures — and  therefore  should  not  be  vindicated  in  those  things : 


INTENDED  NEWSPAPER  EDITORSHIP. 


16S 


yet,  in  the  general,  the  executive  government  must  be  sup- 
ported, because,  if  it  be  not,  down  goes  the  constitution,  and  up 
rises  anarchy  and  every  possible  evil  with  it.  In  these  cases, 
you  must  be  your  own  master,  and  not  be  obliged  to  follow  the 
dictates  of  a  proprietor,  who  probably  may  not  be  able  to  dis- 
cern the  end  with  the  beginning  : — better  be  a  hewer  of  wood, 
or  drawer  of  water,  than  be  political  slave  to  such  a  person. 
Be  free,  and 

« Scorn  to  have  your  free-born  toe 
Dragoon'd  into  a  wooden  shoe.' 

"  I  believe  the  present  murderous  war  has,  on  our  side,  been 
wrong  from  the  beginning.  We  should  never  have  engaged  in 
it ;  there  was  not  one  political  or  moral  reason  why  we  should. 
It  is  the  war  of  Pitt's  ambition  ;  it  is  a  crusade  in  behalf  of 
Popery  ;  it  is — I  have  heard  all  the  infantine  reasons  that  have 
been  brought  i'or  its  support.  It  has  ruined  Europe — it  has 
aggrandized  our  enemies — it  is  ruining  us  :  no  sophistry  can 
prove  the  contrary,  or  make  it  even  plausible. 

"  If  it  be  possible  for  me  to  serve  you,  in  any  way,  I  shall 
be  glad  to  do  it.    I  shall  keep  my  eyes  about. 

"  With  love  to  all  my  old  friends, 
"  I  am,  my  dear  brother, 

"  Yours  affectionately, 
"A.  Clarke. 
"  Mr.  Samuel  Drew,  St.  Austell,  Cornwall." 

"Lanaith,  Monday,  Nov.  16,  1812. 

"  Your  letter  of  the  12th  instant,  my  dear  friend,  I  received 
on  Saturday  night,  the  14ih  inst.,  and  reply  to  your  interesting 
communications  without  loss  of  time. 

"  Doctor  Clarke's  opinion  is  worthy  of  himself.  His  politi- 
cal creed  I  believe  to  be  founded  in  truth,  and  his  advice  to 
you  excellent.  All  seem  to  be  desirous  that  you  should  take 
the  editorship.  The  public  press  is,  at  all  times,  a  most  pow- 
erful moral  or  immoral  engine,  and  ought  to  be  in  good  hands, 
especially  in  such  dread  times  as  these  in  which  we  live.  The 
good  providence  of  God  seems  to  make  plain  paths  for  your 
feet. 

***** 
"  More  will  be  expected  from  you  by  the  religious  world 
than  will  be  reasonable,  I  fear.    The  post  is  honourable  and 
commanding ;  and  will,  1  doubt  not,  be  very  profitable,  when 


164 


LIFE  OF  SAMUEL  DREW. 


you  are  at  liberty  to  act  altogether  for  yourself.  Upon  the 
whole,  I  believe  that  you  would  be  an  acceptable  editor  to  the 
generality  of  the  gentlemen. 

"  Such,  my  dear  friend,  are  a  few  of  the  thoughts  which 
flow  into  my  mind ;  and  I  pray  the  Lord  to  direct  you  in  the 
way  of  benefit  for  your  familj',  and  glory  to  His  name  and 
cause. 

"  I  remain,  my  dear  friend, 

"  Most  sincerely  yours, 

"  W.  Sandys. 

"  To  Mr.  Samuel  Drew,  St.  Avstcll." 

Thus  advised,  Mr.  Drew  proceeded  to  negotiate  with  Mr. 
F. ;  but  the  conditions  proving  on  inquiry  to  be  unsatisfactory, 
he  declined  to  accept  the  newspaper,  and  Mr.  F.  sought  another 
purchaser. 

In  May,  1813,  under  the  title  of  "  Scriptural  and  Philosophi- 
cal Arguments  to  prove  the  Divinity  of  Christ,  and  the  Necessity 
of  his  Atonement,"  Mr.  Drew  published,  at  the  request  of  his 
audience,  the  substance  of  an  extempore  discourse  delivered  at 
Redruth  during  the  preceding  inonth.  Several  of  the  argu- 
ments being  new,  where  novelty  could  not  be  expected,  the 
pamphlet  attracted  much  attention.  No  method  was  taken  to 
give  it  publicity  beyond  Cornwall ;  yet,  in  the  following  Sep- 
tember, a  second  edition  became  necessary  to  meet  the  increas- 
ing demand  :  and  application  being  made  for  the  discourse 
from  various  parts  of  the  kingdom,  this  edition  was  soon  ex- 
hausted. Early  in  1814,  a  proposal  was  made  by  the  proprie- 
tor of  Mr.  Drew's  larger  works  to  purchase  the  copyright  of 
this  pamphlet  also :  and  such  was  the  difference  between  his 
fame  at  this  time  and  his  obscurity  when  he  published  his 
"  Essay  on  the  Soul,"  that  though  he  had  received  only  twenty 
pounds  for  that  work,  he  sold  this  single  sermon  for  an  equal 
gum.  Since  that  period,  we  believe,  it  has  passed  through 
several  editions. 

In  Cornwall,  the  tenets  of  Socinianisin  were,  and  still  are, 
but  little  known.  At  Falmouth  there  was  a  small  Unitarian 
congregation  ;  a  member  of  which,  who  had  been  previously 
acquainted  with  Mr.  Drew,  undertook  to  animadvert  upon  his 
"Arguments,"  in  a  pamphlet  that  appeared  in  the  autumn  of 
1813,  and  was  termed  by  its  author  a  "Reply."  This  per- 
formance Mr.  Drew  thought  carried  with  it  its  own  refutation. 
Yielding,  however,  to  the  views  and  wishes  of  others,  he  pub- 


PAMPHLETS  AGAINST  SOCDilANISM. 


165 


lished,  in  the  following  spring,  a  closely  printed  pamphlet  of 
eighty-four  pages,  entitled,  "  The  Divinity  of  Christ,  and  the 
Necessity  of  his  Atonement,  vindicated  from  the  Cavils  of  Mr. 
Thomas  Prout  and  his  Associates."'  His  reasons  for  this  pub- 
lication were  thus  given  : — 

"  It  was  not  long  after  the  pamphlet  which  bears  Mr.  Front's 
name  was  published,  that  several  of  my  friends  proposed  to  me 
this  q.uestion,  '  Do  you  intend  to  answer  it  V  To  these  my 
reply  was  in  the  negative  ;  and  the  reasons  which  I  assigned 
were,  that  although  he  had  preposterously  called  his  perform- 
ance 'A  reply'  to  my  dissertation  on  the  doctrines  now  vindi- 
cated, he  had  not  overturned  a  single  argument  which  I  had 
advanced,  nor,  only  in  a  few  instances,  even  attempted  to  do  it. 
In  addition  to  which,  my  attention  was  so  much  engrossed,  at 
that  period,  with  concerns  wiiich  I  deemed  of  more  importance 
than  his  pamphlet,  that  I  had  no  leisure  to  examine  its  parts, 
if  I  had  been  so  disposed.  In  the  justness  of  my  observations 
they  readily  concurred  ;  but,  from  an  apprehension  that  his 
pamphlet  might  fall  into  the  hands  of  some  pious  persons  who, 
being  unacquainted  with  controversy,  might  not  be  able  to  dis- 
tinguish Socinian  sophistry  from  solid  argument,  they  advised 
me  to  strip  off  the  visor  which  it  wore,  that  the  unsuspicious 
might  neither  be  led  to  forsake  '  the  fountain  of  living  waters,' 
through  the  delusion  of  false  appearances,  nor  be  induced  'to 
turn  aside  from  the  holy  commandment  delivered  unto  them.' 

"  It  was  also  urged,  that  although  JNIr.  Front's  pamphlet 
contained  no  reply  to  the  arguments  of  mine,  yet,  as  it  included 
a  kind  of  abstract  of  Socinian  argumentation,  the  coniidence 
with  which  it  was  written  might  induce  the  superficial  to  think 
that  its  reasonings  might  correspond  with  that  tone  of  bold 
decision  which  had  tempted  the  professed  author  to  throw  down 
the  gauntlet,  and  even  challenge  the  whole  Christian  world  ; 
and  which,  if  it  met  with  no  opposition,  might  finally  incline 
him  to  substitute  the  boast  of  victory  for  the  blush  of  shame." 

The  notice  bestowed  upon  his  sermon,  the  author  little 
anticipated.  In  the  British  Critic  for  1814,  it  was  mentioned 
in  terms  of  high  approbation;  and  a  passage  in  one  of  Mr. 
Drew's  letters  to  Mr.  Polwhele  intimates  that  in  him  he  had 
recognised  his  friendly  reviewer.  In  the  high  places  of  Socin- 
ianism  its  arguments  were  deemed  sufficiently  important  to 
demand  further  scrutiny  ;  and  "  A  Comparative  View  of  some 
of  Mr.  Drew's  Scriptural  and  Fhilosophical  Arguments  to  prove 
the  Divinity  of  Christ,  and  the  Necessity  of  his  Atonement," 
was  published  in  London  in  1815  ;  but  this  professed  exanai- 


166 


LIFE  OF  SAMUEL  DREW. 


nation  of  his  reasonings  he  either  never  saw,  or  seeing  did  not 
deem  a  reply  necessary. 

From  several  quarters  he  was  nrged  to  take  up  tlie  subject 
of  Redemption  through  the  blood  of  our  Lord  Jesus  Christ,  in 
a  more  extended  way  than  a  sermon  would  permit,  and  fully  ex- 
hibit the  inconsistency  of  Socinianism  with  reason  and  with 
Scripture.  "A  complete  treatise  on  this  momentous  topic, 
written  by  you,"  observes  one  correspondent,  "  will  be  an  im- 
mortal work — a  standard  book,  like  Paley's  Evidences — so  well 
done  that  it  will  not  need  to  be  done  again."  The  subject  would 
have  been  perfectly  congenial  with  Mr.  Drew's  views  and 
habits  of  tiiinking  ;  but  other  matters  then  forced  tiiemselves 
upon  his  attention,  and  he  conceived  that  an  essay  on  the 
Trinity,  upon  which  he  knew  his  friend  Professor  Kidd  to  be 
then  engaged,  would  supersede  any  similar  undertaking. 

Dr.  Clarke,  in  his  correspondence  with  Mr.  D.,  says,  "  I  gave 
the  copyof  yoursermon  which  you  sent  me  to  Lord  Teignniouth. 
He  is  uncommonly  pleased  witii  it,  and  has  been  sending  it  about 
among  several  other  lords.'"  Mr.  Drew  had  the  further  satis- 
faction of  knowing  that,  in  one  case  at  least,  the  publication  of 
his  sermon  liad  produced  conviction.  A  friend  in  London,  to 
whose  care  he  had  consigned  a  few  copies,  writes  thus  : — "  I 
sold  one  of  your  sermons  on  the  Divinity  of  Christ  to  a  Unita- 
rian, and  have  the  pleasure  to  say  that,  from  reading  it,  he  has 
been  led  to  exchange  his  erroneous  sentiments  for  the  doctrine 
maintained  by  you." 

These  pamphlets  against  Unitarianism  were  the  occasion  of 
numerous  letters  to  the  author,  of  which  we  have  space  only 
for  the  following  :  — 

"Creed,  June  17th,  1814. 

"My  dear  Sir, 

"  Many  circumstances  have  prevented  me  from  thanking  you, 
as  soon  as  I  could  wisli  to  have  done,  for  your  very  kind  letter 
of  the  lOih  of  .May,  and  for  your  pamphlet  which  accompanied 
it.    I  feel  myself  much  obliged  to  you  for  both. 

"  The  object  of  your  pampiilet  is  to  establish  what  I  conceive 
to  be  the  very  essence  of  our  religion,  and  to  vindicate  impor- 
tant and  awful  truths  from  cavils.  I  have  read  what  you  have 
written  with  much  satisfaction.  There  is  considerable  acu»e- 
ness  in  your  mode  of  treating  your  subject,  and  also  originality 
in  your  arguments,  which,  upon  a  question  so  often  and  so 
variously  discussed,  was  not  to  be  expected.  It  is,  I  think, 
ealculated  to  do  much  good:  it  will  have  weight  with  those  who 


PAMPHLETS  AGAINST  SOCINIANISM. 


167 


are  humble  and  teachable  ; — but,  alas !  there  are  those  still  in  the 
world  '  who  seeing  will  not  see,  and  hearing  will  not  under- 
stand.' I  fear  that  Mr.  Prout,  and  men  of  his  character  and 
opinions,  will  not  easily  be  silenced.  'J'here  is  a  flippant  self- 
sufficiency  in  the  style  and  argument  of  all  the  Socinian  writers 
■whom  I  have  consulted,  that  seems  to  bid  defiance  to  conviction. 
After  what  the  sober  part  of  mankind  would  consider  as  a 
defeat,  they  will  patch  up  their  broken  weapons,  and  limp  again 
into  the  field  :  and  when  they  have  tired  and  disgusted  both 
opponents  and  readers,  they  will  utter  ihe  shout  of  victory. 

"  The  renowned  Socinian  champion  Priestley,  with  all  his 
arts  and  antics  of  controversy,  serves  as  their  fliigel-man  in  the 
field.  Your  parallel  between  Thomas  Paine  and  Thomas 
Prout  happens  very  happily,  and  the  coincidence  is  to  be  easily 
traced  up  to  natural  causes.  Such  men  cannot  brook  to  be 
hemmed  in  by  the  ordinary  barriers  which  restrain  opinions 
within  reasonable  limits.  'Let  us  break  their  bonds  asunder, 
and  cast  away  their  cords  from  us!' — But  ' professing  them- 
selves to  be  wise,  they  have  become  fools.' 

***** 

"  I  was  concerned  to  see,  that,  in  the  preface  to  your  pam- 
phlet, you  mention  domestic  afflictions  ;  1  hope  they  are  re- 
moved. 

"  Yours  truly, 

"  Wm.  Gregor." 

In  March,  1814,  overtures  were  made  to  Mr.  Drew,  by  a  pro- 
vincial publishing  house,  to  write  a  History  of  all  Religions, 
similar  to  that  of  Evans  or  Bellamy.  This  he  at  first  felt  dis- 
posed to  undertake  ;  but  the  terms  offered  were  not  such  as  he 
approved,  and  he  was  dissuaded  from  it  by  his  friend  Dr. 
Clarke,  who  remarked  to  him,  "  You  have  earned  a  little  repu- 
tation by  what  you  have  already  written  : — it  is  the  easiest  thing 
in  the  world  for  an  author  to  write  himself  out  of  credit.  Be- 
ware of  this." 

A  proposition  from  a  London  bookseller,  to  prepare  a  work 
on  Witchcraft,  Demoniacal  Possession,  Supernatural  Appear- 
ances, <fec.,  he  also  declined. 


168 


MFB  OF  SAMUEL  DREW. 


SECTION  XX. 

Death  of  Mr.  Drew's  father — Examination  of  Dr.  KidJ's  Essay  on  the 
Trinity — Publication  of  the  History  of  Cornwall — Mr.  Drew  is  ap- 
pointed by  the  Methodist  Conference  to  write  the  Life  of  Dr.  Coke. 

Early  in  1814  Mr.  Drew  had  to  follow  his  aged  father  to 
the  grave.  The  good  old  man  had  many  years  before  relin- 
quished his  farm  ;  and  taking  a  retired  lodging,  depended  chiefly 
upon  his  two  children  for  subsistence.  Labouring  under  the  in- 
firmities of  more  than  fourscore  years,  his  unusual  octogenarian 
vigour  and  activity  were  now  rapidly  declining ;  and  "  like  a 
shock  of  corn  fully  ripe,"  he  was  about  to  be  gathered  into  the 
heavenly  garner.  There  is  so  much  simplicity  and  pious  feel- 
ing in  a  short  letter  written  by  him  to  his  son  not  long  before 
his  death,  that  its  insertion,  we  think,  will  gratify  the  reader. 

"  My  dear  Son  Samuel, 

"When  it  is  poor  times  with  you,  it  is  miserable  times  with 
me.  How  can  it  be  otherwise,  when  I  am  dependent  upon 
you  ? — I  have  been  asked  whether  you  have  been  kind  to  me, 
and  my  answer  hath  been,  that  a  better  son  never  was  born, 
and  that  your  love  and  affection  did  sometimes  overpower  me. 
Our  good  God  can  make  a  little  go  a  good  way.    1  have  had 

garments  from  Mr.  P  ,  I  have  shoes  from  my  son-in-law,  I 

have  money  from  you,  and  1  iiave  got  grace  from  God,  who  is 
the  Author  of  all.  Don't  you,  in  any  shape,  reflect  upon  your- 
self, fearing  I  have  been  waiuing  any  thing.  While  you  live,  I 
have  no  gloomy  thoughts  of  wanting  ;  and  I  am  persuaded  the 
Lord  will  prolong  your  life  for  some  wise  purposes.  When  I 
begin  to  reflect  that  you  are  my  son,  I  can  hardly  bear  the 
honour — that  I  should  be  raised  up  to  be  so  favoured — I,  who 
am  not  worthy  of  the  ground  1  tread  on — I,  who  was  taken  up 
out  of  the  horrible  pit  of  mire  and  clay — and,  what  is  more 
than  all,  that  I  should  be  called  a  child  of  God. 

"  The  Lord  bless  you — the  Lord  be  with  you— the  Lord  be 
gracious  unto  you,  and  give  you  peace,  and  all  your  family,  for 
ever.  Amen. 

"  From  your  unworthy  father, 

"  J.  Drew. 

"iHtij/ 28,  1812." 


HIS  father's  death. 


169 


In  a  subsequent  letter,  after  describing  his  bodily  pains  and 
infirmities,  he  thus  writes  :  "  My  dear  children,  1  have  to  tell 
you  that  death  and  I  are  very  friendly.  The  thought  of  it  is 
more  pleasurable  to  me  than  all  the  treasure  and  pleasure  this 
world  can  give.  O  could  I  but  tell  you  the  half  of  what  I  feel 
and  see  !  It  seems  to  me  that  the  pearly  gates  stand  open,  and 
the  crown  glitters  before  my  ravished  eyes.  Always  some- 
thing is  saying,  '  The  time  of  thy  departure  is  at  hand.'  Some- 
times my  God  doth  so  fill  me  with  his  presence  that  my  body 
is  sinking  to  the  dust.  But  still  he  doth  not  let  me  know  when 
the  happy  time  shall  be — I  must  live  by  faith." 

To  his  eldest  son,  then  residing  at  a  distance  from  St.  Aus- 
tell, Mr.  Drew  thus  describes  his  father's  decline  and  disso- 
lution : — 

"  March,  27,  1814. — Yesterday  afternoon  we  brought  grand- 
father to  our  house.  He  is  reduced  to  a  mere  skeleton.  We 
spread  for  him  a  bed  in  a  covered  cart,  and  he  bore  the  journey 
exceedingly  well.  We  have  put  up  a  bed  for  him  in  my  cham- 
ber ;*  so  that  I  write  and  tend  him.  We  have  watched  by  him 
regularly  every  night  for  nearly  five  weeks  ;  but  we  think  it 
will  not  be  required  much  longer.  He  has  no  particular  dis- 
order. He  is  wiihout  pain.  Faintness  and  a  want  of  breath 
seem  to  form  his  principal  complaint.  It  appears  to  be  a  gen- 
eral decay  of  nature ;  and  he  has  no  wish  whatever  for  recov- 
ery. In  him  I  behold  an  evidence  of  what  vital  religion  is  able 
to  accomplish.  Having  made  his  peace  with  God,  and  lived  in 
a  state  of  preparation  for  eternity,  the  prospects  of  death  and 
judgment  are  so  familiarized  to  his  view  that  he  can  contem- 
plate both  with  tranquillity.    May  we  be  equally  prepared  ! 

"  April  27. — The  event  which  we  have  long  anticipated  has 
at  length  arrived.  Your  grandfather  is  no  more.  Last  night, 
about  twenty  minutes  before  ten  o'clock,  he  departed  this  life, 
in  the  full  triumph  of  faith.  May  you  and  I  follow  him,  as  he, 
for  more  than  sixty  years  has  followed  Christ,  that,  like  him, 
we  may  at  last  end  our  days  in  peace  !  On  the  preceding 
eveuing,  when  I  asked  him  how  he  was,  he  replied,  '  Strong  in 
fahh — full  of  hope — my  fears  are  wholly  gone.'  He  has  left  a 
journal  of  his  life,  which  he  kept  for  many  years.  In  this  he 
has  uniformly  expressed  his  strong  confidence  in  God,  and  his 
desire  to  be  dissolved  and  be  with  Christ.  His  wish  is  at 
length  consummated." 

*  Mr.  Drew's  common  designation  of  his  study. 
P 


no 


LIFE  OF  SAMUEL  DREW. 


The  friendly  intercourse  between  Mr.  Drew  and  the  Rev. 
Professor  Kidd,  of  Aberdeen,  since  distinguished  by  the  hono- 
rary title  of  D.D.,  has  been  already  noticed.  During  the  sum- 
mer of  1814,  at  the  pressing  request  of  its  author,  Mr.  D.  en- 
gaged in  the  critical  examination  of  this  gentleman's  "  Essay 
on  the  Trinity," — a  work  evincing  great  originality  of  mind  and 
patient  research  ;  in  which,  besides  availing  himself  of  reve- 
lation and  tradition  —  the  ordinary  sources  of  proof, — the 
learned  writer  has  attempted  a  demonstration  of  the  doctrine  of 
Three  Divine  Hypostases,  from  Space,  Duration,  and  the  Es- 
sential Perfections  of  the  Deity.  This  examination  demanded 
considerable  time,  and  close,  searching  thought,  which  the  pro- 
fessor duly  estimated.  So  much  importance  did  he  attach  to 
his  friend's-  opinions,  that,  in  deference  to  tiiem,  he  recon- 
structed a  large  portion  of  his  treatise.  Thus  revised,  it  was 
again  submitted  to  Mr.  Drew,  and  also  to  Dr.  Adam  Clarke, 
who,  in  a  letter  to  his  Cornish  friend,  observes,  "The  pro- 
fessor feels  exceedingly  anxious  to  anticipate  all  the  possible 
objections  to  his  system  ;  and  he  very  wisely  depends  much 
on  you,  and  very  unwisely  depends  on  inc.  I  consider  his 
work  to  be  a  mighty  effort  of  a  mighty  m'ind  ;  and,  should  he 
even  fail  in  the  main  argument,  his  work,  I  am  certain,  will  do 
much  good.  He  has  dared  nobly;  and  if  he  fall,  it  must  be 
by  the  sun's  melting  the  wax  of  liis  pinions,  tlirough  the  sub- 
limity of  his  flight.  I  believe  there  is  not  a  Socinian  in  Britain 
this  day  that  will  be  able  to  demonstrate  him  to  be  wrong ; 
and  I  fear  not  to  pledge  myself  to  eat  the  book,  though  a  folio, 
in  which  his  chain  of  argumentation  can  be  fairly  proved  to  cut 
the  opposite  way." 

This  treatise,  of  which  Mr.  Drew  also  expressed  a  very 
high  opinion,*  was  published  in  1815: — it  will,  perhaps,  be 
for  another  generation  duly  to  estimate  its  value. 

In  the  autumn  of  1814  Mr.  Drew  undertook  l)is  most  volu- 
minous work,  the  "History  of  Cornwall."  Fortescue  Hitchens, 
Esq.,  of  St.  Ives,  then  known  in  Cornwall  as  a  poet  of  con- 
siderable merit,  had,  several  months  previously,  issued  pro- 
posals for  publishing  a  county  history,  in  two  quarto  volumes. 
To  this  many  persons  had  engaged  to  become  subscribers  ; 
but,  before  an  outline  of  the  work  was  prepared,  the  advertised 
compiler  was  removed  by  death,  and  the  materials  he  had  pro- 

*  A  long  critique  on  this  work  from  Mr.  Drew's  pen  will  be  found  in 
the  Wesleyan  Methodist  Magazine  for  1815. 


HISTORY  OF  CORNWALL. 


171 


vided  were  lodged  in  the  hands  of  the  provincial  bookseller 
who  projected  the  history.  Having  received  the  names  of 
many  subscribers,  he  felt  reluctant  to  let  the  publication  drop, 
and  engaged  Mr.  Drew  to  execute  what  Mr.  Hitchens  con- 
templated but  scarcely  began. 

The  work  having  been  already  advertised  as  coming  from 
the  pen  of  Mr.  Hitchens,  it  was  not  thought  advisable  to  set 
aside  his  name ;  and  Mr.  Drew,  not  being  punctilious  about 
pre-eminence,  although  the  sole  compiler,  was  content  to  be 
called  the  editor  of  the  book.  "  Such,"  he  says  in  his  Preface, 
"  were  the  circumstances  under  which  it  was  announced  to  the 
public,  as' a  History  of  Cornwall,  compiled  by  Forlescue 
Hitchens,  Esq.,  and  edited  by  Samuel  Drew."  Upon  com- 
mencing his  labour,  he  found  himself  possessed  of  two  sheets 
and  a  half  of  his  predecessor's  manuscript,  of  which  no  use 
was  made, — his  name  as  compiler, — and  those  resources  which 
Mr.  Hitchens  had  not  explored. 

As  a  compilation  the  history  was  advertised ;  nor  did  it  ever 
aspire  to  the  reputation  of  an  original  work.  Such  pretensions, 
in  this  or  in  any  other  history  of  modern  date  would  be  absurd. 
"It  is  impossible,"  says  Mr.  D.,  "  that  those  portions  of  an 
historical  work  which  enter  into  the  regions  of  remote  antiquity, 
and  detail  the  transactions  of  departed  ages,  can  be  other  than 
a  repetition  of  known  facts,  though  the  combination  of  ideas  be 
new,  and  the  language  original." 

Of  the  works  of  all  his  predecessors  Mr.  Drew  freely  availed 
himself.  It  has  been  said  that  his  History  is  but  a  rifaccia- 
mento  of  the  work  of  Lysons.  Had  the  critic  subjoined,  "  and 
of  a  dozen  otlier  historians,"  he  would  have  been  nearer  the 
truth.  But  of  no  previous  writer  was  Mr.  D.  the  servile  copy- 
ist. Great  pains  were  taken  to  correct  the  errors  of  other  his- 
tories, by  applying  to  the  best  sources  of  information.  Manu- 
scripts and  records  were  consulted ;  and  numerous  queries,  de- 
signed to  elicit  truth,  were  proposed  in  a  circular  letter  to  the 
clergymen,  and  to  such  persons  of  note  in  the  county  as  were  ex- 
pected to  interest  themselves  about  any  of  the  points  of  inquiry. 
In  arrangement  and  expression  the  History  is  new.*  Except 
those  passages  which  are  marked  as  quotations,  the  whole  is  in 

*  During  its  progress,  Mr.  D.  was  indebted  to  Mr.  Polwhele  for  many 
valuable  suggestions  and  friendly  remarks,  which  added  to  the  value  of 
the  work.  In  their  corrcsiiondence  at  this  time,  though  not  on  topics  so 
generally  interesting  as  to  justify  insertion,  it  is  pleasing  to  observe  the 
perfect  cordiality  and  good-will  of  the  writers. 


172 


LIFE  OF  SAMUEL  DREW. 


Mr.  Drew's  language  ;  and  all  the  matter  contained  in  1500 
quarto  pages  was  sent  to  the  printer  in  his  own  manuscript. 

Notwithstanding  the  precautions  taken  to  ensure  correctness, 
it  is  very  probable  that  errors  will  be  found  in  this,  as  in  every 
other  local  history.  To  such  defects  this  species  of  composi- 
tion is  especially  liable.  From  the  changes  which  are  continu- 
ally occurring,  the  description  which  is  true  to-day  will  become 
inapplicable  to-morrow,  and  its  veracity  may  be  questioned  by 
the  next  generation.  And,  with  reference  to  those  statements 
which,  after  much  labour  in  comparing  the  different  versions,  a 
writer  gives  from  a  conviction  of  their  truth,  something  errone- 
ous will  probably  be  discovered  by  those  who  afterward  inves- 
tigate minutely.  "  As  every  man,"  to  quote  Mr.  Drew's  words, 
"  is  an  historian  in  his  own  parish,  town,  or  village,  the  peasant 
is  frequently  much  better  acquainted  with  facts  which  exist  in  his 
own  neighbourhood  than  the  man  who  has  prosecuted  his  in- 
quiries with  diligence,  devoted  his  time  to  profound  researches, 
and  who  finally  sits  down  to  arrange  his  thoughts  in  philo- 
sophical retirement." 

The  first  portion  of  the  history  appeared  in  the  spring  of  1815. 
After  the  publication  of  the  eighth  part,  in  1817,  the  finishing 
of  the  work  was  deferred  nearly  seven  years,  in  consequence 
of  the  publisher's  failure ;  and  through  this  failure  Mr.  Drew 
sustained  a  heavy  pecuniary  loss.  In  the  annexed  letter  of  his 
to  the  assignees  the  reader  will  perceive  his  anxiety  for  -the  im- 
mediate completion  of  the  History  :  the  rejection  of  his  propo- 
sals was  the  chief  cause  of  its  long  delay. 

"  To  Messrs.  Walker  and  Edwards,  London. 

"  St.  Austell,  Nov.  11th,  1817. 

"  Gentlemen, 

'» In  reply  to  your  letter  of  the  5th  instant,  I  have  to  observe, 
that  I  am  particularly  anxious  the  History  of  Cornwall  should 
be  finisiied ;  otherwise  the  subscribers  will  be  seriously  in- 
jured, by  having  their  sets  left  in  a  state  of  incompletion  ;  and 
considerable  sums  now  due  from  them  to  the  bankrupt's  estate 
will  be  inevitably  lost.  I  will  therefore  undertake  to  finish  the 
two  remaining  parts  of  the  work,  containing  the  same  quantity 
of  matter  as  the  former,  for  60Z.*  and  six  fine  copies  of  the  work, 
when  completed,  in  boards.  These  parts  will  also  include  the 
history  of  the  SciUy  Islands.    As  soon  as  I  have  your  deternii- 

*  The  rate  originally  stipulated  with  the  publisher. 


LIFE  OF  DR.  COKE. 


178 


nation  to  proceed,  I  will  resume  tlie  history,  and  finish  it.  The 
MS.  I  have  already  written  will  make  about  170  pages  in  print, 
which  I  can  send  off  immediately  ;  and  while  this  is  printing,  I 
shall  have  a  sufficiency  of  time  to  finish  the  remainder. 

"  As  I  propose  to  furnish  copy  for  the  completion  of  the  work, 
with  the  probable  loss  of  ]  00/.,  I  shall  expect  to  be  paid  as  I 
deliver  the  MS.  The  greater  part  will  be  delivered  imme- 
diately ;  the  remainder,  I  hope,  will  be  ready  before  Christmas 
next. 

"  Your  specific  and  immediate  reply  to  these  particulars  will 
greatly  oblige 

"  Your  humble  servant, 

"  Samuel  Drew." 

Before  Mr.  Drew  had  begun  his  History  of  Cornwall,  the 
death  of  Dr.  Coke  was  known  in  England.  It  was  the  doclQr's 
wish,  expressed  long  before  his  embarkation  to  India,  that,  if 
his  life  were  published,  Mr,  Drew  should  be  his  biographer. 
This  was  known  to  the  executors,  and  by  them  communicated 
to  the  Wesleyan  Book  Committee,  who  fully  concurred  in  the 
doctor's  choice.  In  March,  1815,  at  the  joint  request  of  the 
executors,  Mr.  Drew  met  them  at  Bath,  to  consult  respecting 
the  Memoir.  From  Bath  he  visited  Bristol,  and  from  thence 
proceeded  to  London,  to  confer  with  the  Book  Committee. 
This  was  the  first  time  of  his  travelling  beyond  the  w'estern 
boundary  of  Devonshire.  By  particular  invitation,  he  preached 
thrice  in  Bath,  thrice  in  Bristol,  and  twice  in  London, — his  ser- 
mons in  each  place  being  greatly  admired  for  their  diction  and 
their  depth  of  thought.  One  of  his  sermons  in  the  metropolis 
was  delivered  in  the  chapel  at  City-road,  and  the  other  at  Great 
Queen-street,  Lincoln's  Inn  Fields. 

At  this  time  his  hair  was  remarkably  long  ;  he  wore  top-boots 
and  light-celoured  breeches;  and  his  whole  appearance  was  so 
uncouth  and  underical  as  to  attract  the  particular  notice  of  his 
audience.  As  he  ascended  the  pulpit  of  Great  Queen-street 
chapel,  a  gentleman,  not  knowing  who  lie  was,  said  to  himself, 
"  I  wonder  whom  they'll  send  us  next  ! — I  wish  the  preachers 
would  keep  their  own  appointments. — I  dare  say  this  is  some 
country  blacksmith.  Well,"  thought  he,  when  they  were  sing- 
ing, "  the  fellow  can  give  out  a  hymn."  When  the  sermon  com- 
menced, the  gentleman's  first  thought,  after  a  sentence  or  two, 
was,  "  He  has  picked  that  up  somewhere — that's  borrowed." 
The  next  impression  was,  "  Why,  the  man  has  read  ;  but  we 
shall  soon  see  him  come  down  to  his  level."  As  the  sermon 
P2 


174 


LIFE  OF  SAMUEL  DREW. 


proceeded,  tlie  preacher  fully  maintained  the  high  ground  he  had 
taken.  His  critical  hearer  was  quite  perplexed  to  make  out 
who  or  what  he  could  be  ;  when,  recollecting  that  he  had  heard 
of  the  Cornish  metaphysician's  being  in  town,  he  felt  convinced 
that  this  must  be  the  man.  He  now  listened  with  intense  in- 
terest, and  his  prejudices  were  exchanged  for  admiration.  The 
gentleman  afterward  obtained  an  introduction  to  Mr.  Drew,  and 
told  him  all  that  had  passed  through  his  mind. 

In  compliance  with  an  oft-repeated  invitation,  Mr.  Drew, 
while  in  London,  took  up  his  residence  at  Dr.  Clarke's,  and, 
through  him,  was  introduced  to  many  distinguished  individuals. 
Among  others  with  whom  he  spent  an  evening  in  conversation 
was  the  late  Dr.  Mason,  of  New-York.  To  Dr.  Clarke's  kind- 
ness he  was  at  this  time  indebted  for  an  introduction  to  the  Royal 
Society  and  the  Society  of  Antiquarians.  Here  also  commenced 
an  intimacy  between  Mr.  Drew  and  his  friend's  accomplished 
daughters,  with  whom  he  continued  a  friendly  correspondence. 

Having  made  the  necessary  arrangements  respecting  the 
biography  of  Dr.  Coke,  he  returned  to  Cornwall  in  April,  and 
commenced  the  work.  At  the  close  of  the  ensuing  Conference, 
the  resolution  of  that  body,  confirmatory  of  the  engagement 
with  him,  was  thus  intimated  : — 

"  Raithby  Hall,  Lincolnshire, 
"Aug.  29th,  1815. 

"  Mv  DEAR  Sir, 

"  Mr.  Roberts,  who  is  now  with  us,  on  his  return  from  Man- 
chester to  Bath,  has  communicated  to  me  the  following  resolu- 
tion of  Conference,  August  17,  1815,  which  he  has  requested 
me  to  transcribe  and  forward  to  you,  being  unable  to  do  it  him- 
self from  the  increased  failure  of  his  sight. 

"  The  resolution  is,  '  That  the  Book  Committee  shall  have 
authority  to  conclude,  in  conjunction  with  the  executors  of  the 
late  Rev.  Dr.  Coke,  an  agreement,  on  such  terms  as  they  may 
think  fit,  respecting  a  life  of  Dr.  Coke,  to  be  written  by  Mr. 
Drew,  of  St.  Austell ;  and  that,  if  such  agreement  be  concluded, 
the  life  so  written  shall  have  the  sanction  and  support  of  the 
Methodist  connection.' 

Mr.  Roberts  has  also  requested  me  to  observe,  that  you 
stand  on  the  very  same  footing  with  us,  Dr.  Coke's  executors, 
as  you  did  when  Ave  conversed  together  on  the  subject  at  Bath, 
viz.  that  we  are  the  only  responsible  persons  to  you  for  the  re- 
mimeration  of  your  services. 

"  R.  C.  Brackenbury. 


LIFE  OF  DR.  COKE. 


175 


"  That  you  may  be  divinely  strengthened  and  comforted  in 
the  prosecution  of  your  most  laudable  undertaking,  is  the  sincere 
prayer  of  your  very  affectionate  friends, 

"  R.  C.  Brackenbdry, 

"J.  HOLLOWAY, 

"  T.  Roberts. 
"  To  Mr.  Samuel  Drew,  St.  Austell." 

Much  time  being  occupied  in  the  examination  and  arrange- 
ment of  documents  for  the  Memoir,  and  the  County  History 
being  now  in  regular  progress  through  the  press,  the  execution 
of  the  Life  was  less  rapid  than  might  have  been  wished.  About 
Lady-day  (25th  March),  1816,  the  manuscript  was  completed, 
and  despatched  for  the  inspection  of  the  executors  and  com- 
mittee. 

In  this  undertaking  Mr.  Drew  experienced  the  difficulty  of 
serving  many  masters.  On  the  5th  of  November,  when  wri- 
ting to  a  member  of  his  family,  he  observes,  "  Two  days  since 
I  had  the  MS.  of  Dr.  Coke's  life  returned  to  me,  to  undergo  alter- 
ations. I  wish  it  had  been  returned  sooner,  as  the  long  delay 
will  prove  injurious  to  the  sale.  It  has  now  been  in  the  hands 
of  the  executors,  I  believe,  five  or  six  months,  for  examina- 
tion ;  and  all  the  animadversions  that  are  made  might  have  been 
made  within  a  fortnight.  But  it  has  been  in  London,  with  Mr. 
Holloway  ;  in  Lincolnshire,  with  Mr.  Brackenbury  ;  and  in 
Bath,  with  Mr.  Roberts.  I  have  now  to  drive  hard  on  the  His- 
tory of  Cornwall,  and  to  finish  this  MS." 

To  please  the  executors  alone  would  not  have  been  difiicult. 
But  the  biographer  had  also  to  please  the  Book  Committee,  and 
then  to  satisfy  himself  and  the  public,  as  to  the  faithfulness  of  the 
narrative,  and  the  correct  delineation  of  character.   In  February, 
1817,  the  Memoir  was  again  forwarded  for  inspection.    By  a 
memorandum  given  to  Mr.  Drew,  Dr.  Coke  had  constituted  him 
sole  judge  in  this  matter  ;  yet  the  revision  and  re-revision  by  the 
various  parlies  occupied  more  time  than  the  original  composi- 
tion, and  called  him  once  more  to  London.    In  relation  to  the 
i    bulk  of  the  volume,  his  remuneration  was  ample ;  yet  for  the 
[    harassing  repetitions  of  his  labour  he  was  scarcely  compen- 
j  sated. 

The  work  was  published  bvlhe  Wesleyan  Book  Committee, 
in  1817. 

About  this  time  Mr.  D.  writes,  "  Although,  during  the  last 
winter,  my  application  was  more  intense  than,  on  the  score  of 


176 


LIFE  OF  SAMUEL  DREW. 


prudence,  I  could  wish,  my  health  remains  unimpaired.  My 
sight,  however,  begins  to  fail ;  so  that  without  glasses  I  can 
scarcely  see  to  write.  The  man  who  invented  spectacles 
did  more  to  benefit  mankind  than  all  the  heroes  that  ever  ex- 
isted, and  his  name  is  more  worthy  of  being  immortalized  than 
that  of  Caesar." 

In  1816  the  situation  of  postmaster  at  St.  Austell  became 
vacant.  Mr.  Drew  offered  his  services,  and  through  the  rec- 
ommendation of  Charles  Rashleigh,  Esq.,  who  warmly  inter- 
ested himself  in  his  behalf,  he  was  appointed  to  the  office.  To 
the  same  gentleman's  kind  intervention  lie  was  subsequently 
indebted  for  the  transfer  of  the  office  to  one  of  his  sons.  The 
circumstance  merits  notice  in  these  pages,  because  this  gentle- 
man being  a  strict  churchman,  while  Mr.  Drew,  as  a  Methodist, 
was  reckoned  a  dissenter,  it  was  a  tacit  admission  of  his  moral 
worth.  To  record  the  kindness  is  a  tribute  due  to  a  generous 
and  departed  friend. 


SECTION  XXI. 

Mr.  Drew  contemplates  a  philosophical  investigation  of  the  tenets  of  Wes- 
leyan  Methodism — His  Essay  on  the  Being  and  Pcrffctions  of  God 
published — He  is  urged  to  write  on  the  Eternal  Sonship  of  Christ — His 
sentiments  on  that  subject. 

However  competent  Mr.  Drew  was  to  discharge  faithfully  the 
duties  of  tlie  historian  and  biographer,  we  think  that  in  these  de- 
partments of  literature  he  was  out  of  liis  congenial  element — 
that  element  in  which  he  might  be  said  to  "  live,  and  move,  and 
have  his  intellectual  being."  Of  this  he  was  conscious  ;  and, 
even  while  laboriously  occupied  with  the  works  descril)ed,  his 
thoughts  dwelt  upon  loftier  undertakings. 

Those  who  take  an  interest  in  the  determination  of  the  great 
question  upon  which  philosophers  and  tiieologians  have  been 
divided  from  the  earliest  ages, — whetiier  man  be  a  free  or  a  ne- 
cessary agent, — will  scarcely  peruse  tiie  following  letters  with- 
out a  feeling  of  regret  that  the  contemplated  investigation  was 
never  accomplished. 


PKOPOSED  INVESTIGATION. 


177 


"  Sheffield,  Methodist  Chapel-house, 
"  Sept.  10,  1816. 

"  Dear  Sir, 

"  Permit  one  who  is  a  stranger  to  your  person,  but  an  ad- 
mirer of  your  talents,  to  address  to  you  a  few  lines,  on  a  subject 
in  which  he  feels  a  deep  and  a  lively  interest.  I  have  heard, 
with  no  small  degree  of  pleasure,  that  you  have  expressed  a 
willingness  to  publish  a  refutation  of  the  new  modification  of 
Calvinism,  as  given  to  the  world  by  the  late  Dr.  Williams,  in 
his  Essay  upon  the  Equity  of  Divine  Government,  provided 
you  could  meet  with  sufficient  encouragement.  Respecting  this, 
I  am  concerned  that  you  entertain  any  doubts.  The  subject 
proposed  for  discussion  is  of  considerable  interest, — your  tal- 
ents are  well  known, — and  I  hope  the  Methodists  are  still  alive 
to  the  importance  of  those  doctrines  which  they  profess  to  regard 
as  divine  truths. 

"  If  you  will  undertake  this  very  desirable  work,  and  publish 
a  volume  upon  the  subject,  I  will  gladly  subscribe  for  at  least 
fifty  copies  ;  and  I  think  I  can  procure  the  sale  of  a  still  greater 
number. 

"  The  Rev.  Messrs.  Wesley  and  Fletcher  did  much  to  check 
the  progress  of  the  Calvinian  doctrine  by  proving  that  Jesus 
Christ  had  tasted  death  for  every  man,  and  that  the  decrees  of 
God,  according  to  which  the  eternal  states  of  men  will  be 
appointed,  are  not  absolute  and  unconditional  in  their  applica- 
tion to  individuals,  but  are  respective  of  character.  Modern 
Calvinists,  in  effect,  acknowledge  the  force  of  the  arguments 
contained  in  the  writings  of  those  venerable  men,  by  giving  up 
a  part  of  their  old  system.  It  seems,  therefore,  desirable  that 
the  noble  effors  of  W.  and  F.  should  be  ably  seconded,  and  the 
errors  of  Calvin,  in  their  various  modifications,  exposed. 

"  Dr.  Adam  Clarke,  in  his  commentary,  is  promoting  the 
honour  of  God  his  Saviour,  by  demonstrating  the  Universality 
of  the  Divine  Philanthropy ;  and  nothing  seems  wanting  but 
the  efforts  of  an  acute  metaphysician  to  expose  the  speculations 
of  Dr.  W.  and  the  divines  of  his  school,  respecting  'negative 
causation,'  &c.  Every  one  observes  that  these  are  subjects 
suited  to  your  talents,  and  that,  by  the  investigation  of  them, 
I  you  would  promote  the  honour  of  the  adorable  God,  and  the 
I  interests  of  genuine  Christianity. 

^  Should  you  deem  these  lines  an  impertinent  intrusion  upon 
your  time  and  attention,  I  hope  you  will  forgive  the  writer, 
whose  only  motives  in  thus  addressing  you  are,  an  admiration 


178 


tIFE  OF  SAMUEL  DREW. 


of  your  talents,  and  a  regard  for  what  he  considers  the  pure 
gospel  of  Jesus  Christ. 

"  I  am,  dear  sir, 

"  Yours  truly, 

"  Thomas  Jackson. 

*''JWr.  Samuel  Drew,  St.  AustelV 

"  St.  Austell,  Cornwall,  Sept.  25,  181G. 

"Dear  Sir, 

"  In  reply  to  your  letter  of  the  10th  instant,  I  cannot  but  say 
that  I  have  long  wished  to  see  the  great  and  fundamental  doc- 
trines of  Methodism  fairly  examined,  and  permanently  estab- 
lished, on  the  ground  of  philosophy  and  rational  argument. 
The  Church  of  England  has  its  Hooker,  the  Quakers  have  their 
Barclay,  and  the  Calvinists  have  their  Edwards  ;  but  Metho- 
dism, though  it  has  produced  a  Wesley  and  a  Fletcher,  has  yet 
to  seek  this  philosophical  ground. 

"  Conversing,  some  time  since,  with  Dr.  A.  Clarke,  on  this 
subject,  I  expressed  my  wish  that  such  a  work  might  be  un- 
dertaken, and  intimated  my  willingness  to  assist  in  its  compo- 
sition. But  my  wish  was,  that  it  might  be  made  a  permanent 
work  of  Methodism,  in  which  its  doctrines  might  be  defended 
on  rational  principles  ;  and  that,  passing  through  the  ordeal  of 
such  as  were  competent  to  judge,  it  might  be  considered  as  a 
standard  work  among  the  body.  Dr.  C.  most  heartily  approved 
of  the  design,  but  plainly  informed  me,  that  if  this  work  were 
the  production  of  tlie  present  day,  I  must  undertake  it,  and  navi- 
gate the  ocean  nearly  alone.  He  would  readily  render  me  such 
personal  assistance  as  his  litne  would  allow ;  but  the  work 
must  be  my  own.  I  intimated  the  improbability  that  Confer- 
ence would  officially  sanction  such  a  work,  unless  submitted 
to  their  criticisms  (to  which,  while  the  work  remained  my  own, 
I  might  not  implicitly  bow),  and  the  difficulty  of  obtaining  a 
proper  circulation  unless  I  could  procure  some  sanction  ;  that 
a  deep  metaphysical  work,  which,  in  its  details,  must  pursue 
the  windings  of  Destiny,  and  pass  through  all  the  diversified 
terms  of  Liberty,  Necessity,  Freedom,  Power,  and  Responsi- 
bility, could  not  be  expected  to  find  a  great  number  of  readers, 
especially  among  the  Methodists,  to  whom  it  would  be  most 
particularly  interesting  ;  and,  finally,  that  I  should  be  involved 
in  a  controversy  with  those  whose  opinions  1  must  necessarily 
oppose.  To  this  his  reply  was,  '  Produce  the  work,  and  you 
need  not  fear  of  finding  support.'  Here  the  affair  terminated, 
and  here  it  now  rests. 


PROPOSED  INVESTIGATION. 


17D 


"  How  far  my  name  may  be  known  as  a  metaphysician  in 
the  literary  world,  I  have  no  means  of  extensively  knowing 
I  know  that,  in  a  local  sphere,  my  publications  have  met  with 
a  favourable  reception.  At  present  I  am  so  deeply  engaged 
in  a  history  of  Cornwall  which  I  am  editing,  that  all  my  time 
is  completely  occupied  ;  nor  do  I  expect  any  leisure  until  it 
shall  be  completed.  After  this,  if  favoured  with  health,  I 
shall  prepare  my  essay  on  tlie  Being  of  God  for  publication, 
the  success  of  which  will  influence  my  future  conduct.  For 
my  support  in  this  essay  I  do  not  look  exclusively  to  the 
Methodists: — on  the  subject  you  recommend,  all  besides  will 
only  furnish  auxiliary  aid. 

"  But,  whatever  tlie  event  may  be,  I  sincerely  thank  you  for 
your  kindness  in  ofiering  so  handsomely  to  assist  me.  Such 
generous  offers  would  furnish  the  sanction  iliat  I  want.  I  am 
well  aware  that  what  I  do  on  this  subject  I  must  do  quickly. 
Life,  with  me,  is  on  the  ebb ;  and  the  tide  once  past  will  return 
no  more.  I  scarcely  know  any  work  in  wliich  I  sliould  be 
more  ready  to  engage  than  in  that  which  you  mention  :  and 
am  inclined  to  think  tliat  the  talents  with  which  God  has  been 
pleased  to  bless  me  lie  immediately  in  that  department.  Still, 
I  am  not  without  my  fears  whether  I  should  meet  with  that 
support  which  would  be  necessary  ;  and  to  risk  an  edition  is 
to  incur  a  certainty  of  expense  on,  perhaps,  a  doubtful  issue. 
The  cast  of  tliinking  into  wliich  tlie  meliiodislic  mind  is  turned 
is  not,  in  general,  very  congenial  to  abstruse  studies.  Some, 
who  could  not  appreciate  the  tendency  of  a  long  chain  of  argu- 
mentation, would  condemn  it,  as  destitute  of  spirituality ;  and 
others  would  fancy  that  every  thing  must  be  '  vain  philoso- 
phy' that  was  not  crowded  with  chapter  and  verse. 

"  I  am  satisfied,  however,  that  multitudes  would  rise  above 
this  local  prejudice,  and  hail  such  a  work,  if  properly  executed, 
as  the  dawn  of  a  new  era  in  the  history  of  jNIelhodism,  and 
use  every  exertion  to  promote  its  success.  Could  I  assure 
myself  that  2000  copies  would  be  sold,  if  life  and  health  con- 
tinued, I  might  seriously  contemplate  the  undertaking.  But, 
prior  to  the  arrival  of  your  letter,  I  had  dismissed  the  subject 
from  my  thoughts  for  many  months.  At  present  I  have  no 
time ;  but  if,  through  the  course  of  another  year,  I  can  dis- 
cover any  general  wish  for  the  appearance  of  such  a  work,  I 
will  revolve  it  seriously  in  my  thoughts,  and  come  to  some 
final  decision.  If  I  hear  notliing  relative  to  the  subject,  it  is 
rather  doubtful  whether  I  shall  ever  undertake  it.  At  present 
it  seems  to  be  a  work  that  is  allotted  for  another,  the  accom- 


180 


LIFE  OF  SAMUEL  DEEV/. 


plishment  of  which  I  shall  never  live  to  see.  I  cannot  but 
think  that  it  would  be  a  valuable  acquisition  ;  but  circum- 
stances do  not  seem  happily  to  combine  for  its  completion  ; 
and  we  must  wait  the  flight  of  future  years  to  discover  the 
favourable  coincidences  which  may  be  necessary. 

"  With  my  sincere  thanks  for  your  wishes  to  see  the  work 
undertaken  and  accomplished,  and  your  generous  offer  to 
assist  me  in  its  publication ;  and  with  my  earnest  desire  for 
your  welfare,  botli  temporal  and  eternal,  I  am,  dear  sir, 
"  Yours  most  respectfully  and  sincerely, 

"  Samuel  Drew. 

"  Rev.  Thomas  JacJegon,  Sheffield." 

That  Mr.  Drew  did,  at  one  period,  seriously  purpose  apply- 
ing himself  to  this  important  inquiry  is  beyond  a  doubt ;  and 
the  certainty  of  that  intention  occasions  the  deeper  regret.  In 
a  letter  to  one  of  his  sons,  of  a  date  a  few  months  subsequent 
to  the  foregoing,  he  observes,  "  I  am  exceedingly  glad  that  you 
have  animadverted  on  the  Essay  of  Mr.  Rogers.*  Preserve 
your  papers.  We  may  hereafter  investigate  in  conjunction  the 
grand  question  of  libekty  and  necessity." 

To  a  very  intimate  friend  Mr.  Drew  remarked,  in  a  later 
period  of  his  life,  that  he  had  oflered  to  undertake  such  a  work 
as  that  proposed  by  Mr.  Jackson,  if  the  Conference  would 
take  a  thousand  copies,  or  would  employ  him  officially  :  this 
they  refused  to  do,  and  he  consequently  declined  the  risk  of 
publishing.  His  friend  hinted  that  it  was  not  yet  too  late,  and 
that  perhaps  he  might  write  it  when  he  retired  from  his  other 
literary  engagements.  "Ah!  no,"  said  he  :  "if  I  had  done 
it  at  that  time,  I  might  have  produced  something  worth 
while  ;  but  '  there  is  a  tide  in  the  affairs  of  men' — that  tide 
with  me  is  past,  and  I  shall  never  attempt  it.  When  1  relin- 
quish my  present  occupation,  I  intend 

'  To  husband  out  life's  taper  at  the  close, 
And  keep  the  flame  from  wasting,  by  repose.' " 

Alas !  that  his  opinion,  that  he  should  not  live  to  see  the 
accomplishment  of  the  suggested  undertaking,  should  have 
been  prophetic !  Not  long  after  Mr.  Jackson's  proposal  liis 
time  and  talents  became  otherwise  engaged  ;  and  possibly  he 

*  "  Elements  of  Evangelical  Religion,"  published  in  1816,  containing 
an  epitome  of  the  modern  Calvinistic  theory  of  President  Edwards  and 
Dr.  Williams. 


ESSAY  ON  THE  DIVINE  PERFECTIONS. 


181 


thought,  upon  the  appearance  of  Mr.  Watson's  Theological 
Institutes,  that  his  own  labours  in  that  field  would  be  super- 
seded. 

The  Essay  on  the  Being  and  Perfections  of  God,  which, 
since  the  decision  of  the  judges,  had  remained  in  the  hands  of 
Professor  Kidd,  again  claims  our  attention.  To  this  friend 
Mr.  Drew  writes,  in  June,  1817,  "You  have  obliged  me  much 
by  suggesting  the  idea  of  putting  my  Essay  into  the  hands  of 
Dr.  Gregory  of  Woolwich.  I  know  scarcely  any  literary 
character  under  whose  inspection  I  siiould  be  more  solicitous 
for  it  to  pass.  I  know  him  only  from  his  writings ;  but  from 
these  my  confidence  in  his  talents  and  probity  lead  me  to  ex- 
pect an  opinion  which  will  either  correct  or  confirm  my  own. 
I  will  therefore  thank  you  to  forward  the  MS.  for  his  exami- 
nation as  soon  as  you  have  done  with  it,  that  he  may  have  full 
time  to  inspect  it  williout  breaking  in  upon  his  other  engage- 
ments. When  you  send  it  let  me  know  immediately,  that  I 
may  write  him  on  the  subject.  I  hope  you  have  already  as- 
certained that  he  will  be  able  to  examine  my  pages  ;  1  would 
not,  on  any  account,  presume  to  make  an  attack  on  his  time 
without  his  concurrence :  it  would  be  rude  in  a  stranger  thus 
to  force  himself  into  his  presence.  After  the  MS.  has  passed 
under  his  inspection  and  yours,  I  shall  reperuse  it,  and  pre- 
pare it  for  the  press." 

Agreeably  with  Mr.  Drew's  wish  and  Professor  Kidd's  sug- 
gestion, the  unsuccessful  Prize  Essay  was  forwarded  to  Wool- 
wich. In  apprizing  the  author  of  its  safe  reception,  in  the  fol- 
lowing December,  Dr.  Gregory  remarks,  "  I  have  derived  so 
much  pleasure  and  instruction  from  the  perusal  of  two  of  your 
works,  and  have,  in  consequence,  so  highly  appreciated  your 
qualifications  for  metaphysical  disquisition,  that  I  shall  eagerly 
anticipate  a  season  of  partial  leisure  to  devote  to  an  examina- 
tion of  your  manuscript."  Early  in  1818,  Mr.  Drew  received 
his  Essay,  after  an  absence  of  nearly  six  years,  accompanied 
with  the  following  letter : — 

"Royal  Military  Academy,  Woolwich, 
"  Feb.  23,  1818. 

"  My  dear  Sir, 
"  I  now  transmit  you  your  valuable  manuscript,  with  that  of 
Professor  Kidd,  and  his  '  Course  of  Sermons.'   My  few  remarks 
(which  are,  in  truth,  very  hasty  and  superficial)  you  will  find 
lying  at  the  title-page  of  vour  own  MS. 

Q 


182 


LIFE  OF  SAMUEL  DREW. 


"  I  trust  you  will  be  able  speedily  to  complete  your  revision, 
and  put  your  work  to  press  ;  and  I  most  cordially  wish  it  all 
possible  success,  both  as  to  the  circulation  and  as  to  the  ben- 
efits which  that  circulation  may,  under  the  blessing  of  God,  be 
the  means  of  producing,  by  leading  wanderers  to  the  fold  of 
Christ. 

"  I  shall,  of  course,  bend  to  your  wishes  and  feelings  respect- 
ing reverend.  1  had  an  idea  you  were  a  moveable  Methodist 
preacher,  and  not  merely  what  I  believe  your  friends  denomi- 
nate a  local  preacher.  But  this  is  of  small  consequence.  I 
have  long  known  and  esteemed  your  character.  I  am  not  a 
Methodist ;  but  am,  I  trust,  a  sincere  lover  of  all  good  men.  I 
have  the  pleasure  of  well  knowing  and  much  esteeming  several 
in  your  connection. 

"  Sliould  any  thing  occur  in  which  I  can  be  of  the  least  ser- 
vice to  you,  either  in  reference  to  your  publication  or  in  any 
other  way,  make  no  scruple  of  addressing, 

"My  dear  sir, 
"Yours,  with  every  good  wish, 

"  Olinthtts  Guegory. 

"  Mr.  Samuel  Drew.,  St.  Austell,  Cornwall." 

The  year  1818  was  to  Mr.  Drew  a  season  of  comparative 
leisure.  After  a  long  absence,  the  treatise  which  he  esteemed 
his  masterpiece  was  restored  to  him.  In  its  travels  it  had  been 
enriched  by  criticisms  the  most  profound  and  elaborate  ;  and  of 
these  he  sat  down  to  avail  himself,  in  a  final  revision  of  his  work 
for  tite  press. 

In  the  following  January  he  issued  proposals  for  publishing, 
by  subscription,  in  two  octavo  volumes,  his  "  Attempt  to  demon- 
strate the  Being,  Attributes,  and  Providence  of  the  Deity." 
About  four  hundred  copies  were  individually  subscribed  for,  and 
two  hundred  by  the  booksellers  and  the  Wesleyan  Book  Com- 
mittee. A  thousand  copies  were  printed  ;  and  in  May,  1820, 
the  work  made  its  appearance.  The  sale  was  not  rapid  ;  and, 
in  1824,  Mr.  D.  accejjted  a  proposal  of  Messrs.  Baynes  and 
Son  to  purchase  the  remainder  of  the  impression. 

Contrary  to  his  expectations,  his  work  was  little  noticed  by 
the  Reviews.  To  its  profundity,  which  was  thought  by  his  lit- 
erary friends  to  be  unfavourable  to  his  performance  when  before 
the  judges,  the  silence  of  the  reviewers  may  perhaps  be  attrib- 
uted. It  was  a  work  which  ordinary  writers  would  not  attempt 
to  criticise  ;  and  its  subject  was  not  such  as  to  gratify  those 
who  read  our  literary  journals  in  search  of  amusement.  Only 


ETERNAL  SONSHIP  OF  CHRIST. 


183 


one  critique,  proportioned  to  the  importance  of  the  treatise,  we 
believe,  appeared.  This  was  in  the  "  Investigator,"  a  journal 
of  recent  origin,  and  since  discontinued.  In  this  tiie  Essay 
was  highly  applauded  and  judiciously  analyzed — evidently  by  a 
writer  accustomed  to  metaphysical  research. 

Introductory  to  his  work,  the  author  observes,  "  What  effect 
the  train  of  reasoning  employed  in  these  volumes  may  have  on 
the  minds  of  others  he  presumes  not  to  anticipate  ;  but,  so  far 
as  his  own  convictions  have  been  concerned  in  the  issue,  he  is 
fully  satisfied  of  their  validity.  Under  this  impression,  he  sends 
the  work  into  the  world,  not  without  a  hope  that  it  may,  under 
the  Divine  blessing,  be  rendered  useful,  by  counteracting,  in 
some  degree,  the  pernicious  doctrines  of  those  modern  writers 
who,  under  the  specious  pretext  of  promoting  science,  are  ac- 
tually endeavouring  to  deny  the  existence  of  God." 


The  biographer  has  now  arrived  at  a  period  in  his  narrative 
which  compels  him  to  touch  contested  ground. 

About  the  years  1817  and  1818,  the  opinion  of  Dr.  Clarke, 
in  his  comment  on  Luke  i.  35,  respecting  the  appellation  of  the 
Second  Person  in  the  Divine  Essence,  occasioned  the  publica- 
tion of  various  controversial  papers  and  pamphlets.  The  per- 
sonal attachment  between  the  commentator  and  Mr.  Drew,  and 
the  coincidence  of  their  views  on  the  disputed  subject,  being  gen- 
erally known,  he  was  strenuously  urged  by  Mr.  Butterworth  and 
other  influential  persons  publicly  to  espouse  Dr.  Clarke's  cause. 
Dear  to  him  as  was  the  reputation  of  his  friend,  he  regretted 
the  needless  agitation  of  the  public  mind,  and  declined  prolong- 
ing an  unprofitable  discussion.  Yet,  feeling  that  a  debt  was 
due  to  justice,  to  friendship,  and  to  gratitude,  and  knowing  how 
extensively  the  IMethodists  in  Cornwall  sympathized  with  Dr. 
Clarke's  wounded  ieelings,  he  suggested  the  propriety  of  pre- 
senting to  him  an  address  from  the  Cornish  societies  generally, 
expressive  of  unabated  attachment  and  esteem.  To  this  sug- 
gestion there  was  an  immediate  response  ;  and  the  address,  nu- 
merously signed,  was  forwarded  to  Dr.  Clarke. 

The  question  then  agitated  it  is  not  the  biographer's  prov- 
ince to  discuss.  Truth  demands  only  a  fair  exhibition  of  Mr. 
Drew's  sentiments  ;  and  these  he  is  enabled  to  give  in  Mr.  D.'s 
own  words.  In  the  two  letters  which  follow,  his  views  of  the 
controversy,  and  its  occasion,  are  explicitly  shown.  The  first 
letter  is  to  a  Wesleyan  minister  of  eminence,  who  thought  with 


184 


LIFE  OF  SAMUEL  DRETV. 


Dr.  Clarke,  and  wished  Mr.  Drew  to  enter  the  controversial 
arena.  The  other  terminates  a  long  epistolary  discussion  of 
the  subject  with  Dr.  Kidd  of  Aberdeen. 

"  St.  Austell,  April  10th,  1818. 

*'  My  dear  Sir, 

"I  was  not  at  home  when  your  letter  reached  this  place, 
otherwise  I  would  have  noticed  it  much  earlier.  I  have  been 
into  several  parts  of  the  west,  and  wherever  I  have  been, 
*  What  do  you  think  of  Mr.  Watson  and  Dr.  Clarke  V  has  been 
a  leading  question.  Aware  of  these  interrogations,  I  omitted 
reading  Mr.  W.'s  pamphlet,  because  I  was  not  disposed  to 
make  any  observations  which  might  tend  to  agitate  the  public 
mind,  already  in  too  great  a  state  of  ferment,  for  what  I  cannot 
avoid  calling  a  contemptible  trifle.  But  I  have  noticed  in  every 
company,  during  my  fortnight's  tour,  a  decided  majority  in  fa- 
vour of  Dr.  Clarke. 

"  Since  my  return,  I  have  been  so  busily  employed  that  I 
have  not  been  able  to  give  Mr.  Watson's  pamphlet  an  attentive 
perusal.  I  have,  however,  looked  into  several  of  its  pages,  and 
am  inclined  to  think  that  it  would  not  be  attended  with  insu- 
perable dilTiculiies  to  detect  the  fallacy  of  his  reasoning,  and  to 
vindicate  both  Dr.  Clarke  and  the  views  he  has  taken,  from  the 
conclusions  which  Mr.  W.  has  too  hastily  drawn.  The  real 
subject  of  dispute  being  merely  the  proper  or  improper  use  of  a 
given  phrase,  theology  is  wholly  out  of  tlie  question  ;  and  Mr. 
W.  had  no  more  occasion  to  introduce  it,  than  either  himself  or 
his  predecessor  Moore  had  to  insinuate  that  Dr.  Clarke  was 
verging  to  Socinianism.  They  have  actually  magnified  a  mole- 
hill into  a  mountain. 

***** 

"  On  some  of  Mr.  W.'s  positions  I  can  scarcely  withhold  a 
smile.  He  labours  hard  to  prove  that  there  may  be  nothing 
contradictory  in  a  contradiction  ;  that  for  a  given  fact  to  be 
contradicted,  means  the  same  as  for  it  to  be  incomprehensible  ; 
and  tliat,  although  positions  may  be  destructive  of  each  other, 
this  furnishes  no  proof  why  we  should  hesitate  to  believe  them  ! 
I  do  readily  allow  that  credulity  may  swallow  what  faith  may  re- 
ject ;  but  perhaps  credulity  and  faith  mean  the  same  thing  ! 
***** 

"The  divine  nature  of  Christ  was  either  begotten  or  it  was 
not.  If  begotten,  then  it  was  not  underived,  and,  consequentl)', 
cannot  be  eternal ;  but  if  not  begotten,  then  the  eternal  narne- 
shipi  rather  than  sons/dp,  must  be  given  up.  As  the  term  Eier» 


ETEUNAL  SONSHIP  OF  CHRIST. 


185 


nal  Son  is  not  to  be  found  in  Scripture,  no  man  has  a  right  to 
teach  for  doctrines  the  commandments  of  men  ;  and  it  is  highly 
illiberal  to  load  with  opprobrious  epithets  a  man  %vho  hesitates 
to  subscribe  to  what  he  conceives  to  be  contradictory  proposi- 
tions. 

"On  Mr.  Watson's  pamphlet  I  have  made  a  few  remarks  as 
I  have  read,  but  would  much  rather  that  its  contents  should 
be  buried  in  oblivion  than  that  the  controversy  should  be  pro- 
longed. 

"  Wishing  every  blessing,  I  remain, 

"Yours  most  sincerely, 

"  Samuel  Dkew." 

"  St.  Austell,  Cornwall,  Nov.  25,  1818. 
"  My  very  dear  Sir, 

"  On  the  subject  of  tlie  eternal  namcship  or  sonship,  as  it  is 
called,  my  objection  to  adopt  the  phrase  lies  within  a  very  nar- 
row compass.  In  my  view,  the  term  Son  necessarily  includes 
commencement  of  existence  :  but  the  adjective  eternal  necessa- 
rily precludes  all  commencement  of  existence.  Here,  then,  we 
have  two  ideas  which  are  mutually  subversive  of  each  other. 
If  you,  by  any  process  of  reasoning,  can  remove  the  contradic- 
toriness  of  these  ideas,  then  all  my  further  objections  are  of  little 
weight.  But  until  this  be  done,  all  that  I  have  ever  seen  ad- 
vanced amounts  to  nothing.  I  do  not  doubt  that  the  Person 
denominated  the  Son  of  God  is  eternal  in  his  essence ;  but  I 
doubt  whether  the  term  Son  is  suitable  to  express  that  idea. 
The  point  in  debate  is  not,  therefore,  a  doctrine,  but  a  question 
of  philology  ;  altliough  I  find  that  all  wiio  have  written  in  favour 
of  eternal  sonship  have  lost  sight  of  the  philological  import  of 
the  phrase,  and  have  conjured  the  phantom  up  into  a  doctrine, 
in  which  fancy  has  seen  the  Trinity  involved.  To  these  points 
any  person  who  would  convince  me  of  the  propriety  of  that 
phrase  must  direct  his  arguments,  otherwise  all  is  lost  labour. 
You  have  advanced  many  things  in  your  last,  now  before  me, 
in  favour  of  the  eternal  personality  of  the  divine  nature  of  the 
Son  ;  but  I  can  find  nothing  that  makes  it  appear  that  the  term 
Son  can  be  made  to  express  eternity  of  existence.  To  this 
point  I  had,  in  all  my  letters,  I  believe,  called  your  attention; 
but  found,  from  your  replies,  that  I  had  invited  you  to  it  in  vain  ; 
and  I  was  not  solicitous  to  prolong  a  controversy  which  pre- 
saged a  termination  just  where  it  began. 

"  When  Mr.  Watson's  pamphlet  on  the  Eternal  Sonship  ap- 
peared, I  had  some  thoughts  of  writing  a  reply  to  it ;  but  fear- 
Q2 


180 


LIFE  OF  SAMUEL  DREW. 


ing  such  a  reply  M'ould  not  be  attended  with  any  beneficial  con- 
sequences, I  desisted  until  Conference  with  the  Methodists 
was  past.  When  that  period  arrived,  I  found  that  nothing  was 
said  ;  and,  as  the  affair  was  likely  to  sleep  in  its  own  insignifi- 
cance, I  dismissed  from  my  mind  all  thoughts  of  renewing  the 
subject. 

*  *  *  *  * 

"  I  frankly  acknowledge  that  I  am  not  convinced  by  your 
arguments  in  favour  of  the  Eternal  Sonship  ;  but  I  can  have  no 
objection  that  you  view  them  in  all  that  force  which  I  have  not 
been  able  to  perceive.  The  reason  why  I  cannot  attach  weight 
to  your  arguments  is,  that  you  have  not  met  my  objection  ari- 
sing from  the  incompatibility  of  the  two  terms  eternal  and  Son. 
The  term  Son  seems  founded  on  earthly  analogy  ;  but  I  am 
at  a  loss  to  conceive  jt  possible  that  this  term  can  express  un- 
originated  existence.  I  should  not  ask  hott)  these  things  can  be  : 
an  explanation  that  should  render  their  mode  of  existence  com- 
prehensible is  not  to  be  expected.  All  I  can  hope  to  learn  from 
investigation  is,  that  no  contradictor}'  ideas  are  included  in  the 
proposition  ;  and,  when  this  is  perceived,  all  besides  must  be 
resolved  into  the  unfathomable  ocean  of  infinity.  But  if,  on  the 
contrary,  in  any  proposition,  two  ideas  are  introduced  which  are 
mutually  subversive  of  each  other,  it  is  totally  impossible  that 
such  a  proposition  can  become  an  object  of  my  belief ;  and,  con- 
sequently, no  interpretation  of  Scripture  can  be  right  which  in- 
evitably leads  to  such  contradictory  ideas.  On  this  simple 
ground  I  take  my  stand  ;  and  no  moral  argument  can  dislodge 
me  from  it,  unless  the  contradicloriness  of  the  ideas  included  in 
the  terms  eternal  and  Son  be  done  away.  This  is  a  task  which 
I  do  not  recollect  any  person  has  attempted  to  perform,  amid 
all  that  has  been  said  and  written  on  the  present  occasion ;  nor 
have  I  any  expectation  of  ever  seeing  the  arduous  task  accom- 
plished. To  raise  an  outcry  of  heresy,  as  several  have  done, 
against  Dr.  Clarke,*  and  to  bring  forth  the  authority  of  fathers 
and  councils,  will  form  but  a  poor  substitute  for  argument.  It 


•  An  American  correspondent  of  Mr.  Drew's,  in  a  letter  dated  August,  i 
1818,  referring  to  tlie  year  1785,  when  Dr.  Clarke  was  stationed  at  St.  I 
Austell,  observes,  "  I  remember  a  sermon  he  preached,  from  'Thou  art  I 
my  Son  ;  this  day  have  I  liegotten  thee.'     Old  Charles  Slade  was  pres-  I 
ent.    The  opinion  of  which  you  speak  was  then  advanced,  and  it  seemed  ' 
to  shed  now  light  into  the  old  man's  mind.    Heresy  was  cried  up,  by  the 
Calvinists  especially,  and  by  all  others  who  had  pinned  their  faith  upon  the 
ancient  Trinitarian  system.    Some,  however,  dared  to  think  for  them- 
selves, and  thought  that  Adam  might  be  right  after  all." 


REMOVAL  TO  LIVERPOOL. 


187 


does  not  require  a  long  life  to  learn  that  the  defenceless  part  of 
every  creed  is  generally  guarded  with  anathemas.  If,  my  dear 
friend,  you  can  advance  any  thing  to  prove  that  Son  or  begotten 
can  be  united  to  eternal  without  involving  contradictory  ideas,  I 
shall  have  no  objection  to  the  use  of  these  phrases.  I  do  not 
want  arguments  to  prove  a  Trinity,  nor  to  prove  the  eternity  of 
Him  who  is  known  to  us  as  the  Son  of  God.  I  only  doubt  the 
propriety  of  the  terms  used  to  express  that  idea. 

"  I  remain,  my  very  dear  friend, 

"  Yours  most  sincerely  and  truly, 

"  Samuel  Drew. 

"  Rev.  Professor  Kidd,  Aberdeen.^'' 


SECTION  XXII. 

Mr.  Drew's  removal  to  Liverpool — His  friendly  reception  there — Com- 
mencement of  the  Imperial  Magazine — Intimacy  with  Dr.  Clarke's 
family — Destruction  of  the  Caxton  premises  by  fire. 

We  open  now  a  new  page  in  the  history  of  Mr.  Drew's  life, 
— his  removal  from  his  native  county.  Tliis  occurred  in  Jan- 
uary, 1819.  Tlie  occasion  will,  we  think,  be  presented  to  the 
reader  more  agreeably  in  the  original  correspondence  than  in 
any  other  form. 

"  Millbrook,  Prescot,  Lancashire, 
"Oct.  29,  1818. 

"  My  dear  Sam, 

"I  now  write  to  know  what  you  are  doing,  and  the  reason 
is  the  following.  The  partnership  between  Messrs.  Nuttall, 
Fisiier,  and  Dixon  is  dissolved  ;  and  tlie  whole  is  now  in  the 
hands  of  Mr.  Fisher.  When  I  found  he  was  quite  settled,  1 
earnestly  recommended  you  to  him,  as  a  writer  and  editor, 
and  soon  proved  to  him  that  it  might  be  to  his  advantage  to  have 
such  a  person  in  his  employ ;  at  tlie  same  lime,  that  he  should 
maKe  it  worth  your  wliiie  to  be  thus  employed.  He  came  into 
my  plan,  and  1  told  him  I  would  write  to  you.  I  told  him  I 
hoped  his  salary  would  be  a  rising  one ;  but  that  you  must 
commence  with  a  sufficiency  to  keep  the  wolf  from  the  door. 
This  he  quite  admitted  ;  and  I  believe  any  thing  I  could  in  con- 
science and  honour  name,  he  would  not  hesitate  to  give. 

"Now,  I  most  cordially  recommend  the  place, — and  have  no 


188 


LIFE  OF  SAMUEL  DREW. 


doubt  of  its  being  a  comfortable  maintenance  for  you  for  life  : 
and  if  you  will  work,  to  get  things  out  of  hand  (for  he  is  a 
wonderful  man  for  despatch),  then  you  will  well  agree.  You 
may  enter  on  the  work  any  hour  you  please, — the  sooner  the 
better. 

Now,  can  you  come  ?  and  will  you  come,  first,  and  spy  out 
the  land  ?  This,  I  think,  would  be  well.  You  will  find  in 
Liverpool  such  society  as  will  be  pleased  with  you,  and  you 
■with  them.  Drop  me  a  hint  what  you  would  expect,  that  I 
may  the  better  know  how  to  sliape  my  course.  I  need  not  say 
that  it  will  be  a  pleasure  to  me  to  have  you  near  me ;  and 
perhaps  my  direction  and  advice,  in  some  things  which  I  should 
know  better  than  you,  may  be  useful. 

"  Write  immediately.  I  think  you  will  vastly  like  the  coun- 
try, the  place,  and  the  society.  I  shall  get  you  the  acquaintance 
of  the  first  literary  men  in  England. 

"  Yours,  dear  Drew,  affectionately, 

"  Adam  Clarke. 

"  Mr.  Samuel  Drew,  St.  Austell,  Cornwall.''^ 

"  Millbrook,  Prescot,  Nov.  9,  1818. 

"  Dear  Sam, 

"  Late  on  Saturday  evening  I  received  your  letter;  went  in 
the  same  evening  to  Liverpool,  and  laid  it  before  Mr.  F. ;  and 
have  now  to  communicate  the  following  information : — 

"  1.  To  answer  Mr.  F.'s  purpose,  you  must  live  in  Liverpool. 
Such  is  the  nature  of  his  business,  that  out  of  it  you  would  be 
of  little  or  no  use  to  him. 

"  2.  He  considers  Dr.  Coke's  terms  as  nothing  by  which  he 
should  be  guided ;  as  he  knows  not  of  any  similar  example  in 
the  trade. 

"  3.  He  thinks  that  you  might  leave  your  present  business 
in  the  hands  of  your  family,  at  least  for  a  few  months,  and 
come  down  and  begin  work ;  and  in  that  time  you  could  look 
about  you.  He  wishes  to  publish  the  first  number  of  a  Maga- 
zine on  the  1st  of  .January,  1819;  and,  to  compile  that  num- 
ber, you  should  be  immediately  on  the  spot.  The  time  is  very 
short ;  I  fear,  too  short. 

"  4.  You  can  have  a  comfortable  lodging  at  one  of  our 
friends',  and  reasonable  ;  and  therefore  there  would  be  no  need 
of  an  immediate  family  establishment. 

"  5.  Though  he  would  not  bind  himself  to  any  thing  in  fu- 
ture, yet  he  wishes,  honafde,  if  you  and  he  agree,  and  you 
Bhould  find  it  your  interest,  and  he  his,  that  the  employment 


RESIDENCE  IN  LIVERPOOL. 


189 


should  be  perpetual ;  and  such  is  the  nature  of  his  business, 
that  he  will  ever  need  an  editor.  The  business  having  been  so 
long  established,  there  is  no  doubt  of  its  continuance ;  and  I 
do  think,  such  are  your  abilities,  that  the  employment  will  be 
employment  for  you  while,  perhaps,  you  live. 

"  6.  Though  he  has  several  houses  and  tenements,  yet  he  is 
not  willing  to  find  you  any;  because  you  might  possibly  think 
unsuitable  what  he  might  deem  otherwise :  and  therefore  he 
he  thinks,  if  you  come,  you  must  provide  for  yourself. 

"  7.  Such  is  the  nature  of  liiverpool,  now  certainly  the 
first  commercial  town  in  the  nation,  that,  with  respect  to  the 
articles  of  life — food  and  raiment,  you  may  live  as  cheap  as 
in  any  other  part  of  the  country ;  and  I  should  think  that  a 
house  adequate  to  the  wants  of  your  family  might  be  got  for 
even  less  than  20Z.  per  annum.  Indeed,  I  know  some  very  neat 
and  convenient  places  in  Liverpool  for  twelve  guineas ;  and  if 
you  come  and  live  near  me,  you  shall  have,  for  seven  guineas, 
a  house  with  four  rooms,  each  fifteen  feet  square,  and  a  nice 
little  garden. 

"  8.  Lastly,  and  most  important,  he  proposes  to  give  you, 
for  the  first  year,  you  giving  up  your  whole  time  to  his  work, 

and  finding  yeurself  every  thing  in  the  house  way,  pounds. 

I  pulled  it  up  from   guineas  to  the  above  sum  ;  and,  my 

dear  brother,  I  do  think  it  is  only  under  the  influence  of  an 
especial  providence,  that  a  man  in  your  circumstances,  or  a 
literary  man  of  any  kind,  in  such  times  as  these,  can  get  so 
much  per  annum.  Now  take  advice ;  and  speak  your  mind 
speedily  to 

"  Yours  affectionately, 

"  A.  Clarke. 

Mr.  Samuel  Drerc,  St.  Austell.'" 

"  Liverpool,  Nov.  29,  1818. 

"Dear  Drfw, 

"  In  mo.st  things  I  am  obliged  to  adopt  the  maxim,  '  What- 
soever thy  hand  findeth  to  do,  do  it  with  thy  might and  to  this  I 
am  obliged  to  add,  do  it  speedily,  that  one  work  may  not  inter- 
fere with  another.  On  Thursday  evening  I  received  your  letter 
at  MiUbrook ;  on  Friday  morning  I  sent  off  an  abstract  of  it 
to  Mr.  Fisher;  Saturday  I  came  into  Liverpool  to  converse 
with  .Mr.  F.  on  the  subject ;  and  now  sit  down  to  give  you  the 
result.  I  have  engaged  lodging  for  you,  provisionally,  with  a 
particular  friend  of  mine,  a  young  widow,  a  thorough  Methodist, 


190 


LIFE  OF  SAMUEL  DREW. 


and  about  three  minutes'  walk  from  Caxton,  Mr.  F.'s  office ; 
where  you  are  to  have  a  bed-room,  with  the  use  of  her  parlour, 

and  good  plain  wholesome  food,  for  per  week.    Mrs.  W. 

has  two  quiet,  nice  children,  a  boy  and  girl,  12  or  14  years  of 
age:  from  them,  therefore,  you  need  expect  no  trouble  nor 
■molestation. 

"  As  you  say  you  cannot  remove  sooner  than  the  end  of  next 
month,  so  Mr.  F.  does  not  urge  it ;  though  it  will  sadly  derange 
the  plan  of  his  projected  Magazine,  which,  I  am  afraid,  in  that 
case,  he  cannot  publish  before  March.  However,  I  think,  in 
the  mean  time,  you  might  be  projecting  some  plan  of  proceed- 
ing. He  intends  the  Magazine  to  be  thoroughly,  not  profoundly, 
literary,  and  thoroughly  religious, — every  thing  of  God  and 
godliness  to  have  place  in  it,  and  every  thing  in  the  compass 
of  knowledge  by  which  the  human  mind  and  heart  may  be 
improved.  He  has  not  even  fixed  on  a  name.  He  wishes 
also,  that  while  every  thing  that  is  sound  in  divinity,  and  truly 
scriptural  and  rational  in  experience,  may  have  a  decided  and 
prominent  place  in  it,  whatever  may  be  profitable  in  science, 
especially  to  all  the  middle  classes  in  life,  should  be  carefully 
attended  to.  Contributors  should  be  courted  on  all  sides  ;  and 
your  correspondence  should  be  made  as  strong  and  respectable 
as  possible.  On  this  plan,  draw  up  a  prospectus  as  soon  as 
you  can. 

"  Mr.  F.  projects  also  a  history  of  America,  in  its  present 
state,  merely  for  the  use  of  those  who  may  be  incited  to  emi- 
grate thither  ;  giving  a  true  statement  of  the  nature  of  the 
country, — the  soil  and  its  productions,  the  commerce,  value  of 
land,  rent  of  houses,  taxation,  &c.  &c.,  difficulty  or  facility  of 
settlement,  expense  of  outfit,  and  of  furniture  and  utensils 
there  ;  and  any  fair  balance  between  its  advantages  and  dis- 
advantages compared  with  the  mother  country.  For  these 
points  he  must  seek  out  the  proper  materials  for  you.  Such 
a  history  should  be  introduced  with  an  account  of  the  discovery 
of  America,  state  of  its  original  inhabitants,  as  to  civilization, 
religion,  &.c.,  and  its  gradual  colonization  from  the  commence- 
ment to  the  present  time.  All  to  be  included  in  one  good 
octavo  volume.  These  are  the  two  principal  things  at  present ; 
and  I  give  this  notice  of  them  that  you  may  mould  them  in 
your  mind,  and  lay  and  model  your  plan  as  soon  as  possible, 
and  that  you  may  appear  very  wise  and  knowing  when  you 
come.    I  have  done  now  all  1  think  I  should  do  in  this  busi- 


RESIDENCE  IN  LITEEPOOL. 


191 


ness  : — if  I  can  help  you,  you  may  command  me.  God  direct 
you  in  all  things. 

"  I  am,  my  dear  Drew, 

"  With  love  to  all  friends,  yours, 

"  A.  Clarkk. 

"  Mr.  Samuel  Drew,  St.  AustelV^ 

From  the  following  domestic  letters  of  Mr.  Drew  some 
further  particulars  of  this  period  of  his  life  may  be  gathered. 
They  also  pleasingly  exhibit  his  affectionate  disposition,  pious 
feeling,  and  characteristic  simplicity  of  manners. 

"Liverpool,  Ja».  20,  1819. 
"  My  DEAR  Wife  and  Children, 

"As  I  have  much  to  write  in  which  we  are  all  deeply 
interested,  I  shall  not  detain  you  with  giving  in  detail  the 
particulars  of  my  journey  hither. 

"  On  Sunday  I  heard  Dr.  Clarke  preach,  and  on  Monday 
had  an  interview  with  him  and  Mr.  Fisher,  on  the  occasion  of 
my  visit.  This  business  I  find  to  be  that  of  editing  a  Maga- 
zine, which  Mr.  F.  intends  publishing.  I  intimated  my  desire 
to  do  my  work  in  St.  Austell,  but  soon  found  that  this  would 
be  impracticable,  as  the  editor  must  be  almost  continually  on 
the  spot.  Inquiring  how  many  hours  I  should  be  expected  to 
work,  I  was  told  that  the  office  hours  were  from  seven  to 
seven.  To  this  I  positively  refused  to  submit,  declaring  that  I 
would  not  think  of  coming,  at  all  events,  until  nine  in  the 
morning,  and  that,  as  to  any  otlier  hours,  I  would  rather  stand 
on  the  ground  of  honour  than  suffer  the  independent  spirit  of  a 
Cornish  author  to  wear  a  shackle.  This  produced  a  laugh, 
and  an  a  ;quiescence  ;  Mr.  F.  only  observing,  that  on  certain 
occasions  a  much  greater  attention  would  be  required  than  at 
others,  the  propriety  of  which  I  should  soon  discover.  With 
regard  to  terms,  I  found  them,  in  all  other  respects,  just  as  Dr. 
Clarke  represented  them. 

"  Having  made  these  arrangements,  Mr.  Fisher  proposed 
sending  immediately  to  Londou  for  a  new  fount  of  type  for  the 
kMagazine  ;  but  I  desired  him  to  desist  until  I  received  your  final 
p-eply ;  as  I  considered  myself  only  come  to  reconnoitre,  and 
[make  my  report.  'I'his  letter  is  now  written  to  have  your 
answer,  which  you  must  consider  as  final. 

'•  With  my  dear  wife  and  family  I  think  I  could  make  myself 
comfortable  in  Liverpool ;  but  to  be  separated  from  all,  I  should 
be  unhappy  anywhere.    I  am  now  about  three  hundred  and 


192 


LIFE  OF  8AMUIX  DREW. 


seventy  miles  distant  from  you  ;  but  it  does  not  affect  my  spirits. 
I  have  every  thing  I  can  wish,  to  ensure  my  comfort,  that 
strangers  can  bestow.  My  spirits  are  really  far  belter  than  I 
expected.    Your  letter  will  guide  their  movements. 

"  I  am  your  affectionate  husband  and  father, 

"  Samuel  Drew. 
"  Jan.  22. — Yesterday  I  preached  twice,  to  a  large  con- 
course of  people,  many  of  whom  came,  I  suppose,  to  hear  a 
Cornishman.  I  thank  God  1  was  able  to  speak  without  much 
perturbation,  and  have  no  doubt  of  being  soon  put  to  work 
again.  I  shall,  however,  take  care  of  my  health.  I  have  this 
day  removed  to  my  lodgings.  I  dined  with  Mrs.  W.,  and  had 
a  good  piece  of  boiled  beef,  with  greens  and  potatoes.  It 
looked  like  home." 

"  Liverpool,  Feb.  12,  1819. 
"  My  dear  Wife  and  Childkkn, 

"  I  have  now  come  to  a  resolution  to  continue  in  Liverpool 
for  some  time.  Indeed,  I  put  off  Mr.  Fisher  so  long  as  I 
could  with  any  convenience ;  and  as  soon  as  he  knew  I  had 
received  your  letter,  he  came  to  me  for  my  final  determination. 
I  have  therefore  given  him  my  word  to  continue  at  least  one 
year.  This  being  the  case,  you  must  not  expect  to  see  me,  if 
all  be  well,  until  July  or  August,  and  then  only  as  a  transient 
visiter.  My  likeness  has  been  taken,  and  is  now  engraving, 
for  the  first  number  of  the  '  Imperial  Magazink,*  or  Compen- 
dium ofHeligious,  Moral,  and  Philosophical  Knowledge.' 
It  will  be  published,  here  and  in  London,  on  the  31st  of  March 
next,  price  one  shilling.  I  am  now  busily  employed  in  writ- 
ing a  review  of  several  books.  My  health  is  good.  I  have  no 
indisposition  whatever;  and,  on  the  whole,  find  myself  more 
comfortable  than  I  could  have  expected.  I  may  have  almost 
as  many  acquaintances  as  1  please.  Dr.  Clarke  has  been 
projecting  a  plan  for  me  to  deliver,  on  some  future  day,  public 
lectures  on  metaphysics.  But  this  is  in  its  infancy,  and  very 
remote.   We  have  two  public  libraries,  to  which  I  have  access 

"  Fch.  \5th. — I  have  again  seen  Dr.  Clarke,  w  ho  has  most 
seriously  urged  the  propriety,  and  public  as  well  as  private 
advantage,  of  my  delivering  a  course  of  lectures  on  the  Nece 
sary  Existence  and  Essential  Attributes  of  God.  Such  a  cours 
of  lectures,  he  says,  will  be  quite  new,  not  only  in  Liverpool,  bu 
perhaps  in  England,  and  in  the  world.  He  thinks  that  I  may 
easily  put  lOOi.  into  my  pocket,  perhaps  200Z. ;  and  finally 
realize  as  much  more  by  publishing  them. 

*  "  This  title  is  of  Dr.  Clarke's  choosing." 


RFSIDKNCE  IN  LirERPOOL, 


193 


"  I  this  morning  took  a  wali<,  about  half  a  mile  out  of  town, 
and  visited  the  Botanic  Garden.  The  walks  are  beautiful, — 
the  hot-houses  very  extensive, — and  the  road  to  it  is  exceed- 
ingly clean.  There  is  scarcely  a  shrub  in  the  kingdom  of 
which  they  have  not  some.  But  nothing  in  this  garden  pleased 
me  more  than  a  beautiful  thrush,  singing  merrily  from  one  of 
the  trees.    I  fancied  that  it  was  a  Cornish  tune. 

"I  find  that  the  longer  1  stay  in  Liverpool,  the  more  obsta- 
cles will  be  thrown  in  the  way  of  my  return.  On  your  coming 
hither,  my  dear  wife,  you  perceive,  I  have  no  room  to  write. 
The  Methodists  say,  that  until  you  come,  they  do  not  think 
they  have  perfectly  secured  me.  May  God  bless  us  during  our 
separation  !  With  sincere  love  to  all,  and  unceasing  prayers  for 
your  temporal  and  eternal  welfare, 

"  I  am,  my  dear  wife  and  children, 

"  Yours  most  affectionately, 

"  Samuel  Drew." 

"  Liverpool,  March  13,  1819. 
"  My  dear  Wife  and  Children, 

"  I  doubt  not  you  will  rejoice  with  me  in  the  contents  of  the 
letter  which  will  accompany  this.  I  received  it  yesterday  from 
Mr.  Freeling,  and  trembled  while  I  opened  it,  from  an  appre- 
hension that  it  contained  some  unpleasant  news  respecting  the 
post-ofBce.  I  now  hope  that  our  fears  on  this  account  are  at 
an  end  ;  and  I  cannot  but  think  it  exceedingly  kind  in  Mr.  Free- 
ling  to  write  me  a  letter  with  his  own  hand,  announcing  the 
interesting  intelligence.  I  hope  to  write  him  a  letter  of  thanks 
on  Monday  next  for  his  kind  attention.  Situated  as  we  now 
are,  nothing,  I  hope,  will  be  lost  by  my  removal  to  this  place. 

"  I  am  well  aware  that  you,  my  dear  wife,  cannot  come  to 
me  at  present ;  and  as  my  aim  is  to  promote  the  welfare  of  the 
dear  chddren,  I  will  rather  put  up  with  my  inconveniences  than 
cause  any  derangement  in  our  family  concerns.  I  did  not 
know  how  much  I  loved  you  until  I  was  separated  ;  nor  can  I 
express  with  what  affection  I  long  to  embrace  you.  I  calculate 
upon  the  number  of  monilis  that  will  elapse  before  I  shall  see 
you.  When  I  come,  it  will  be  time  enough  for  us  to  make 
arrangements  for  your  removal.  I  have  every  thing  to  make 
me  comfortable  which  it  is  in  the  power  of  strangers  to  bestow, 
and  perhaps  am  out  visiting  four  evenings  of  each  week. 
Many,  I  believe,  are  invited,  on  these  occasions,  to  be  introduced 
to  me,  and  to  have  me  introduced  to  them.  I  can  plainly  per- 
ceive that  the  people  are  anxious  to  fix  me  here  ;  but  all  enter- 


194 


LIFE  OF  SAMUEL  DREW. 


tain  suspicions  that  I  am  not  securely  anchored  until  my  wife 
come.  I  have  preached  every  Sunday,  except  one,  since  I  have 
been  in  Liverpool.  I  seem  to  hold  a  kind  of  middle  rank  be- 
tvceen  the  local  preachers  and  the  travelling. 

***** 

«'  Whenever  the  weather  will  allow,  I  always  take  a  walk 
in  the  morning,  about  a  mile,  towards  the  country,  to  look  on 
furze  bushes  and  a  few  daisies.  On  this  account  I  am  but 
imperfectly  acquainted  with  the  town.  I  know  east  and  west, 
north  and  south,  and  that  is  nearly  all :  I  might  know  much 
more  if  I  would.  Mr.  Fisiicr  has  procured  for  me  a  share  in 
a  Literary  and  Philosophical  Society.  He  does  every  thing 
to  throw  me  into  public  notice,  and  seems  to  spare  no  expense. 
*    .         *  *  *  * 

"  Among  the  Methodists,  three  thousand  in  number,  we  have 
many  men  of  affluence  and  high  respectability;  and  I  am,  on 
the  whole,  treated  here  much  as  I  am  in  Falmouth,  when  I  go 
thither.  If  our  Magazine  will  pay,  I  do  not  think  that  any  pe- 
cuniary considerations  will  induce  me  to  leave  Liverpool ;  and 
the  fate  of  this  work  a  few  months  will  decide.  I  have  my 
health  as  well  as  I  ever  had  it ;  and,  except  when  the  tide  of 
home  rushes  upon  me,  1  am  tolerably  comfortable.  In  Liver- 
pool I  have  met  with  many  persons  of  superior  intelligence, 
both  male  and  female;  though  all  cannot  be  thus  designated. 
The  greatest  annoyance  1  find  is  from  the  smoke,  particularly 
in  the  morning,  when  I  go  out  to  walk;  but  afterward  it  blows 
off,  and  the  sun  shines  as  in  St.  Austell. 

"  I  have  now  nothing,  my  dear  wife  and  children,  to  add  to 
this  epistle  but  my  prayers  for  your  welfare.  I  trust  that  God 
will  give  to  us  a  right  understanding  in  all  things,  and  keep  us 
in  the  narrow  way  that  leads  to  eternal  life.  May  tiie  Lord 
Almighty  bless  and  keep  us,  and  may  we  meet  in  health  and 
peace  !    So  prays  your  affectionate  husband,  father,  and  friend, 

"  Samuel  Drew." 

In  a  letter,  dated  June  9th,  Mr.  Drew  remarks: — "Our 
Magazine  goes  on  exceedingly  well.  We  have  sold,  thus  far, 
upwards  of  7000  of  each  number.  Yesterday  I  had  the  honour 
of  being  introduced  to  Professor  Dugald  Stewart.  He  knew  1 
me  by  name,  was  free  of  access,  but  was  not  well.  He  has 
been  in  the  vicinity  of  Exeter  nearly  all  the  winter,  and  is  novr 
on  his  return  to  Scotland.  He  is  a  plain,  rough-faced  Scotch- 
man, leaving  all  external  marks  of  dignity  for  such  as  have 
nothing  besides  to  recommend  them.    He  had  seen  my  Essay 


RESIDSNCE  IN  LIVERPOOL. 


195 


on  the  Soul,  and  he  gave  me  his  name  as  a  subscriber  to  my 
new  Essay." 

To  the  information  given  in  the  preceding  letters  we  may 
briefly  add,  that  in  July,  1819,  Mr.  Drew  paid  a  short  visit  to 
his  family,  and  returned  again  to  Liverpool.  During  this  visit, 
he  put  his  Essay  on  the  Being  and  Attributes  of  God  into  the 
printer's  hands,  at  St.  Austell ;  and  through  the  kindness  of  a 
gentleman,  then  one  of  the  representatives  of  Cornwall  in  Par- 
liament, was  enabled,  without  expense,  to  revise  all  the  proof- 
sheets  in  Liverpool.  In  June,  1820,  he  was  joined  there  by 
his  wife  and  youngest  daughter ;  but,  for  domestic  reasons, 
Mrs.  D.  returned  to  Cornwall  in  the  following  November,  and 
continued  in  a  state  of  voluntary  separation  until  the  removal 
of  the  Caxton  establishment  from  Liverpool  to  London. 

Mr.  Drew's  intimacy  with  the  members  of  Dr.  Clarke's  fam- 
ily was  at  this  time  strengthened  by  frequent  visits.  The 
afTection  of  the  doctor  for  his  Cornish  friend  may  be  inferred 
from  the  fact,  that  when  he  first  saw  him,  after  his  arrival  at 
Liverpool,  he  put  his  arms  about  him,  and  kissed  him  on  both 
cheeks;  and  so  much  gratification  did  the  doctor  feel  in  his 
society,  that,  though  overwhelmed  with  literary  occupation  and 
ministerial  duties,  he  sirove  to  secure  a  season  of  leisure  when- 
ever Mr.  Drew  could  find  time  to  call.  Admired  and  be- 
loved as  he  was  by  these  kind  friends,  his  disregard  of  fashion 
and  personal  appearance  often  furnished  them  with  a  subject  of 
merriment ;  until  the  females  of  the  family,  who  prided  them- 
selves in  his  acquaintance,  setthem.selves  seriously  to  reform  his 
costume. 

"  Long  was  the  man,  and  long  was  his  hair, 
And  long  was  the  coat  vi^hich  this  long  man  did  wear," 

was  an  epigram  of  Dr.  Clarke's  precisely  applicable  to  Mr. 
Drew,  when  he  made  his  first  appearance  in  Liverpool.  He 
was  passive  under  the  management  of  his  young  friends  ;  and 
they  did  not  pause  until  a  manifest  change  in  his  exterior  was 
effected.  Being  congratulated,  when  he  next  visited  Cornwall, 
upon  his  juvenile  appearance,  he  replied,  "  Those  girls  of  the 
doctor's,  and  their  acquaintances,  have  thus  metamorphosed 
me." 

Among  Mr.  D.'s  papers  were  found  the  following  lines,  ad- 
dressed to  him,  about  this  period,  by  one  of  his  young  female 
pupils  in  the  science  of  metaphysics. 


196 


WFE  OF  SAMUEL  DREW. 


"  What  is  the  Mind  of  Man,  and  where  its  home? 
Is  it  confined  to  earth,  and  earth  alone  ? 
Or  shall  we  mount  the  ethereal  plains,  and  see 
The  mind  unshackled  roam  at  liberty  1 
Pass  through  the  starry  vault, — it  rests  not  there. 
Seek  still  beyond,  and  gain  the  farthest  sphere ; 
Scale  e'en  high  heaven  : — 'tis  there  alone  we  find 
Bounds  that  enclose  and  circumscribe  the  mind. 

From  Him  it  sprang  whose  uncreated  might 
Struck  from  the  abyss  of  darkness  radiant  Tight : 
Who  willed, — and  Chaos  witnessed  Order's  birth  ; 
Who  spake, — and  clothed  with  flowers  the  smiling  earth. 
Moulded  by  Him,  the  human  frame  began  : 
He  said, — and  Life  through  every  member  ran  : 
He  breathed, — and  Soul  to  man  was  instant  given. 
Its  author  God, — its  homo,  its  hope  in  heaven  ! 

No  wonder,  then,  that,  while  to  earth  confined, 
It  seeks  its  source, — the  Uncreated  Mind  : 
Through  abstract  paths  to  tread  its  conscious  way, 
Up  to  the  regions  of  eternal  day  : 
To  leave  all  nature  and  the  world  behind. 
Press  through  them  all,  and  yet  through  all  to  find 
That  ruling  Power  unseen,  but  felt  and  known, 
Which  governs  all,  free  in  Itself  alone  ! 

Soar  on,  my  friend  ;  and,  as  you  gain  the  height 
Where  the  dim  clouds  of  matter  yield  to  light. 
The  soul  replumes  its  out-stretched  wings,  to  see 
The  heights,  the  depths  of  God's  Immensity  ! 
He  formed  tlie  Soul  up  to  Himself  to  tend  ; 
This  its  design,  its  being,  and  its  end. 
Unfcaring,  then,  go  scale  His  high  abode. 
And,  leaving  Nature,  hasten  up  to  God  ! 

"M.  A.  C. 

*'^pril  3,  1820." 

To  Mrs.  Drew,  soon  after  lier  return  to  Cornwall,  Mr.  D. 
writes,  "  I  have  been  down  three  evenings  at  Mr.  Ashton's, 
and  delivered  lectures  to  them  on  grammar.  The  whole  fam- 
ily were  wonderfully  delighted  :  and,  on  my  last  going,  Mr. 
Kaye,  Mr.  Michael  Ashton  and  his  wife,  who  were  present, 
joined  in  importuning  me  to  deliver  lectures  in  a  more  public 
manner.  This,  perhaps,  I  may  atteinpt.  Yesterday  I  dined 
with  Dr.  and  Miss  Clarke,  at  Mr.  Byrom's.  When  some  of 
the  company  liad  withdrawn,  Mr.  Byrom  asked  me  about  my 
lecture  at  Mr.  Ashton's.  Tiiis  communicated  the  first  inform- 
ation to  Miss  Clarke,  and  to  Mrs.  Forshaw,  who  was  also 
present.  They  both  upbraided  me  with  not  acquainting  them 
with  my  intention  ;  and  Mrs.  Forshaw  is  resolved  to  come 
next  Friday." — In  this  quotation  may  be  traced  the  origin  of  a 
notice,  in  Mr.  Drew's  handwriting,  a  copy  of  which  is  given 


RESIDENCE   IN  LIVERPOOL. 


197 


in  the  note  below.*  It  was  found  in  an  .old  pocket-book  of  his 
after  his  decease.  The  intention  which  it  expresses  we  believe 
was  not  fulfilled. 

As  a  local  preacher,  Mr.  D.  officiated  regularly,  in  and  near 
Liverpool.  He  also  frequently  preached  occasional  sermons 
at  Manchester,  Salford,  Stockport,  Oldham,  Macclesfield, 
Northwich,  Chester,  Warrington,  and  other  places  in  that  part 
of  England. 

From  domestic  affliction  Mr.  Drew  was  not  exempt.  During 
his  stay  in  Liverpool,  he  had  to  sympathize  with  a  beloved 
daughter,  placed  in  circumstances  of  peculiar  trial,  and  to  ofler 
his  consolations  to  the  family  of  a  friend  who  shared  in  the  be- 
reavement. 

In  one  of  his  visits  to  Falmouth,  about  the  year  1812,  he  be- 
came acquainted  with  a  respectable  Methodist  family  of  his 
own  name,  but  claiming  no  relationship.  Acquaintance  led  to 
intimacy,  and  intimacy  ripened  into  friendship.  The  friend- 
ship between  the  parents  subsisted  equally  among  the  children  ; 
and  this  led,  in  1821,  to  a  matrimonial  alliance,  which,  within 
six  weeks,  was  dissolved  by  death. 

This  family  aflliciion  rendered  Mr.  Drew  desirous  to  revisit 
Cornwall  for  a  short  period  ;  but  the  immediate  cause  of  his 
leaving  Liverpool  as  a  place  of  residence  will  be  found  in  the 
calamitous  occurrence  thus  described  : — 


"  Liverpool,  January  30,  1821. 

"My  dear  Wife, 
"On  Sunday  evening  Mr.  Fisher  went  to  London;  in  which 
place  he  now  is,  and  where  he  intended  tarrying  about  three 


*  "  Samuel  Drew,  having  been  solicited  by  several  intelligent  friends, 
VPith  whom  he  has  the  happiness  of  being  acquainted,  to  deliver  some  lec- 
tures on  the  principles  of  English  grammar,  begs  leave  to  assure  them, 
that  he  is  willing  to  make  the  attempt,  when  he  finds  a  sufficient  number 
disposed  to  encourage  the  undertaking. 

"Confining  himself  chiefly  to  Etymology  and  Syntax,  he  thinks  that 
his  observations  may  be  comprised  within  about  twenly-six  lectures. 
Two  of  these  he  purposes  delivering  every  week,  in  a  commodious  room 
to  be  appointed,  and  on  such  evenings  and  hours  as  may  be  most  con- 
venient to  the  majority  of  those  who  attend.  His  terms  will  be  one  guinea 
for  each  person. 

"  Such  of  his  friends,  and  of  the  public,  as  are  willing  to  favour  this 
proposal,  are  requested  to  signify  their  intention,  either  to  Mr.  Thomas 
Kayc,  Mr.  John  Ashton,  Mr.  Michael  Ashton,  or  to  S.  Drew,  No.  13, 
Upper  Newington. 

''Liverpool,  November  18,  1820." 

R2 


198 


irFE  OF  SAMUEL  DREW. 


weeks.  But,  alas  !  we  now  expect  him  to  return  this  week,  on 
business  which  involves  his  whole  property,  and  the  welfare  of 
his  family. 

"  On  Tuesday  morning,  about  three  o'clock,  I  was  awakened 
by  a  loud  knocking  at  our  door,  and  calls  of  '  Mr.  Drew ! 
Mr.  Drew  !'  On  my  inquiring  the  reason,  a  lad  said,  '  Get  up 
quickly  ;  for  Caxton  printing-ofTice  is  on  fire.'  1  made  haste  ; 
for,  on  looking  out  at  the  window,  I  saw  the  whole  firmament 
in  a  blaze.  On  reaching  the  spot,  I  found  that  the  fire  had  pro- 
ceeded with  so  much  rapidity  that  nothing  could  avert  the  pro- 
gress of  the  flames.  The  windows  were  all  broken  out  with 
the  excessive  heat ;  and  the  whole  building,  from  the  ground- 
floor  to  the  summit,  was  one  unvaried  mass  of  flame.  Some 
hundreds  of  persons  were  collected,  and  several  engines  ;  but 
nothing  was  of  any  avail.  The  men  belonging  to  the  office 
had  been  there  some  lime,  and,  by  risking  their  lives,  had  res- 
cued from  the  flames  about  one  hundred  and  fifty  reams  of 
paper,  nearly  all  the  copperplates,  and  a  small  quantity  of 
type  : — all  besides  was  consigned  to  destruction.  I  entered  my 
office  to  secure  my  papers  ;  but  the  heat  was  scarcely  support- 
able, and  the  light  occasioned  by  the  flames  was  as  bright  as 
day.  I  succeeded  in  rescuing  the  greater  part;  but  many  of 
them,  I  fear,  are  since  irrecoverably  lost.  Presently,  the  roof 
of  the  great  building  fell  in,  and,  carrying  with  it  floor  after 
floor  (for  the  whole  was  seven  stories  high),  gave  free  passage 
to  the  smoke,  ashes,  burning  paper,  and  other  combustible  mat- 
ter, which  mounted  in  the  air,  and  whirled  like  falling  rockets. 
Some  pieces  of  flaming  paper  were  carried  near  Everton,  more 
than  a  mile  distant.  After  some  time,  the  eastern  wall  fell  in 
with  a  horrid  crash.  But  even  the  brick  and  lime  scarcely 
deadened  the  fire,  which  continued  to  burn  with  irresistible 
violence,  until  all  the  coinbustible  matter  within  its  reach  was 
nearly  consumed.  The  flames  then  subsided  ;  but  the  books, 
paper,  and  other  articles  capable  of  feeding  the  devouring 
element,  though  buried  in  the  rubbish,  continued  to  burn  all  the 
day,  and  all  last  night ;  and  even  yet,  the  whole  is  not  extin- 
guished. Thus  Caxton  printing-office,  which  on  Monday  even- 
ing was  a  stately  pile  of  building,  now  lies  a  heap  of  ruins,  a 
dread  memorial  of  desolation  by  fire. 

"  From  what  cause  the  fire  originated  has  not  been  ascer- 
tained. Every  thing  was  secure  about  half-past  eight.  It  is 
presumed,  that  some  sparks  from  sky-rockets  which  were  put 
up  near  the  buildings  might  have  entered  through  some  crevice  ; 
but  of  this  there  is  no  evidence.    The  fire  was  first  discovered 


RESIDENCE  IN  LIVERPOOL. 


199 


a  little  before  one,  by  a  watchman,  who  sprang  his  rattle,  and 
gave  the  alarm.  It  first  appeared  in  the  north-west  corner,  in 
an  upper  room  ;  and,  unfortunately,  near  an  hour  elapsed  be- 
fore any  engines  could  be  procured, — they  being  employed  about 
a  fire  in  another  part  of  the  town.  They  came  too  late  to  be 
of  any  service.  By  this  disaster  nearly  one  hundred  persons 
are  out  of  employ.  The  property  was  ensured  to  the  amount 
of  about  36,000/.  ;  but  this  will  not  cover  the  loss.  Printing- 
presses,  copperplate-presses,  and  thousands  upon  thousands 
weight  of  type,  together  with  whatever  the  fire  could  not  con- 
sume, now  lie  buried  in  the  ruins.  This  day  a  large  part  of 
the  wall  fell ;  and  other  parts  are  hourly  expected  to  descend  to 
the  general  heap.  No  lives  were  lost,  and,  I  believe,  no  serious 
accident  sustained.  What  the  event  will  be,  respecting  the 
publishing  business,  so  far  as  I  am  concerned,  I  cannot  say. 
Mr.  Fisher  is  expected  to  return  on  Friday  or  Saturday ;  after 
which,  when  something  is  determined  on,  I  hope  to  write  you 
again. 

"  Give  my  love  to  all  the  dear  children  and  family,  and  be- 
lieve me  to  be 

"  Your  affectionate  husband, 

"  Samuel  Drew." 

This  unlooked-for  catastrophe,  though  it  did  not  impede  the 
publication  of  the  Magazine,  deranged  for  a  season  the  general 
Caxton  business,  and  led  the  proprietor,  at  the  following  mid- 
summer, to  transfer  his  establishment  from  Liverpool  to  Lon- 
don. Availing  himself  of  the  temporary  cessation  of  business 
which  this  removal  occasioned,  Mr.  Drew  took  his  departure  for 
Cornwall ;  and,  after  a  short  visit  there,  commenced  his  labours 
in  the  metropolis. 


I 


200 


LIFE  OF  SAMUEL  DREW. 


SECTION  XXIII. 

Mr.  Drew's  first  residence  in  London — Effect  of  his  preaching  on  a  Roman 
CathoHc — His  degree  of  A.M.  conferred — Death  of  Mrs.  Drew — Its 
consequences — Mr.  D.'s  attachment  to  Cornwall — He  dechnes  a  pro- 
fessorship in  the  London  University. 

In  entering  upon  the  last  scene  of  Mr.  Drew's  literary  la- 
bours, the  mind  involuntarily  reverts  to  the  circumstances  of  his 
early  life.  However  marked  the  contrast  between  the  com- 
mencement and  the  close  of  his  career,  there  was  a  gradual 
progression ;  and,  in  tracing  it,  the  successive  openings  of 
Providence  cannot  be  overlooked.  When  he  first  became  known 
as  an  author,  a  literary  friend  predicted  that  he  would  one  day 
become  a  resident  in  the  metropolis,  as  "  the  only  place  where 
his  talents  would  be  properly  rewarded;"  and,  a  few  years  af- 
terward, his  friend  Dr.  Clarke  wished  that  he  were  in  London, 
because  there  he  would  be  "  brought  into  being,  and  made 
useful  to  himself."  The  prediction  and  the  wish  were  now 
accomplished. 

Here  Mr.  Drew  had  the  pleasure  of  becoming  acquainted 
with  many  of  the  literati ;  of  renewing  his  former  intimacy 
with  Mr.  Britlon ;  and,  upon  Dr.  Clarke's  removal  from  Mill- 
brook,  of  finding  himself  again  united  to  his  friend  and  coun- 
sellor. Here,  too,  he  was  joined  by  his  wife  and  three  of  his 
children. 

His  ordinary  occupation  being  similar  to  that  in  which  he  was 
engaged  while  in  Liverpool,  it  needs  no  further  notice  than  that 
all  the  works  issued  from  the  Caxton  press  passed  under  his 
supervision,  and  rendered  his  continual  presence  at  the  office 
necessary.  For  this  reason,  he  resided  near  Islington,  contigu- 
ous to  which  the  printing  department  of  the  Caxton  establish- 
ment was  situated.  Here  he  held  the  office  of  class-leader 
among  the  Methodists  ;  and,  in  London,  as  in  Liverpool,  he 
seemed  to  fill  an  intermediate  station  between  the  travelling  and 
the  local  preachers.  At  first  he  was  considered  as  the  com- 
mon properly  of  all  the  circuits;  and  he  received  appointments 
in  each.  But  being  a  resident  in  the  City-road,  or  first  Lon- 
don circuh,  his  name,  for  some  years,  appeared  only  on  that 
plan  ;  though  his  frequent  invitations  to  preach  charity  sermons 


RESIDENCE  IN  LONDON. 


201 


in  the  vicinity  of  the  metropolis  left  him  very  few  vacant  Sab- 
baths. 

It  was  not  long  after  he  came  to  London,  that  a  Roman  Catho- 
lic female,  passing  the  City-road  chapel,  while  Mr.  Drew  was 
preaching,  had  the  curiosity  to  stop  and  listen.  Her  attention 
was  forcibly  arrested  by  his  address,  and  she  made  various  in- 
quiries respecting  the  preacher,  especially  when  and  where  he 
would  preach  again.  More  than  once  she  attended  his  preach- 
ing, and  felt  so  deeply  interested  in  his  discourses  as  to  seek 
an  introduction.  She  was  invited  to  his  house  ;  and  the  result 
was,  that  after  a  few  conversations  she  abjured  the  tenets  of 
Romanism,  and  became  a  devout  Protestant ;  connecting  her- 
self, we  believe,  with  the  Wesleyan  Methodists. 

In  May,  1824,  the  degree  of  A.M.  was  conferred  upon  Mr. 
Drew,  by  Marischal  College,  Aberdeen.  The  diploma  was  pre- 
sented by  Henry  Fisher,  Esq.,  of  the  Caxion  press,  who  felt 
great  pleasure  in  thus  showing  how  highly  he  valued  Mr. 
Drew's  services.  The  instrument  is  dated  May  6th.  Pro- 
fessor Kidd,  in  a  letter  to  Mr.  Drew,  of  the  11th,  writes  thus  : — 
"  I  congratulate  you  most  cordially  on  your  new  title  of  A.M. 
Our  college  has  enrolled  you  among  its  Alumni ;  and  I  hope 
this  will  be  honourable  to  both  parties.  It  was  your  gratituda 
that  first  drew  my  attention  to  you.  Your  expressions  of  grate- 
ful regard  to  Mr.  Whiiaker,  of  Ruan  Lanyhorne,  first  attracted 
my  notice  of  your  name.  You  are  indebted  to  Mr.  G 
for  first  interesting  himself  in  procuring  you  this  honorary  dis- 
tinction.   To  him  I  know  your  heart  will  feel  grateful." 

The  gentleman  to  whose  kindness  Dr.  Kidd  refers,  informing 
Mr.  Drew  of  what  the  college  was  about  to  do,  observes,  "  Dr. 
Brown,  the  principal,  remarked,  that  he  should  feel  particu- 
larly gratified  in  assisting  to  confer  an  honour  on  one  who  was 
his  antagonist  in  the  Prize  Essay,  and  Dr.  Glennie  is  equally 
desirous  of  lending  his  countenance." 

In  his  diploma  Mr.  Drew  was  inadvertently  styled  reverend. 
Assuming  this  as  an  authority,  the  epithet,  unknown  to  him,  was 
prefixed  to  his  name,  as  editor  of  the  Imperial  Magazine ;  and 
hence  he  was  thus  designated  in  the  newspaper  reports  of  his 
speeches  at  the  anniversaries  of  religious  and  charitable  insti- 
tutions. An  acquaintance,  who  knew  his  aversion  from  being 
so  called,  inquired  his  reason  for  sanctioning  it,  and  received 
this  answer : — "  I  candidly  confess  that  I  dislike  the  title,  but  it 
is  fashionable  in  this  place,  and  has  been  given  to  me  without 
my  knowledge  or  approbation.  This  was  the  case  on  the  cover 
of  the  Imperial  Magazine.    After  the  cover  had  gone  from  my 


202 


LIFE  OF  SAMUEL  DItEW. 


hands  to  the  press,  the  Una  in  which  it  appears  was  introduced, 
and  I  first  learned  it  was  there  about  two  days  after  the 
Magazine  was  circulated.  I  might  afterward  have  had  the 
Rev.  taken  out;  but  I  thought  that  this  would  have  created 
among  the  Methodists,  in  many  places,  some  unpleasant  sur- 
mises, as  though  I  no  longer  officiated  as  a  local  preacher. 
Such  is  the  history  of  this  reverend  affair."  To  which  we 
may  add,  that,  because  of  his  expressed  dislike,  it  was  discon- 
tinued. 

In  1827-8  Mr.  D.  undertook  to  revise  and  bring  through  the 
press  a  theological  work,  in  two  octavo  volumes,  by  Stephen 
Drew,  Esq.,  barrister-at-law,  Jamaica,  the  value  of  which  has 
not  yet  been  fully  appreciated.  Its  title, — "  Principles  of  Self- 
Knowledge,"* — being  inadequate  to  describe  the  nature  of  the 
book,  may  have  operated  to  its  prejudice.  Having  lirst  shown, 
by  a  train  of  luminous  reasoning,  that  some  revelation  of  the 
will  of  God  to  man  must  exist,  the  writer  proceeds  to  demon-' 
strate,  from  a  complete  investigaiion  of  its  evidences,  that  Chris- 
tianity, evangelically  understood,  is  that  revelation,  and  is  a  part 
of  that  universal  law  by  which  happy  and  holy  beings  can  any- 
where be  governed. 

To  this  gentleman,  although  of  the  same  name,  and  a  native 
of  the  same  county,  Mr.  Drew  was  a  personal  stranger.  In 
consequence  of  the  high  estimation  set  on  his  metaphysical 
writings,  the  request  was  made  ;  and  he  found  so  much  intrin- 
sic merit  in  the  work,  as  to  induce  him  very  readily  to  undertake 
the  office.  When  exj)rcssing  his  desire  for  Mr.  D.'s  critical  re- 
vision of  his  manuscript,  Mr.  Stephen  Drew  remarks,  "  The 
MS.  was  presented  to  the  Wesleyan  Missionary  Committee,  to 
be  published,  if  they  thought  tit,  for  the  benefit  of  the  mission 
fund  ;  but  this,  consistently  with  their  rules,  they  could  not  do. 
It  was  long  under  the  eye  of  our  friend  Mr.  Watson,  who  gave 
me  a  very  favourable  judgment  of  it,  and  wished  that  it  might 
be  primed.    I  then  desired  him  to  submit  it  to  you." 

The  publication  of  his  treatise  the  author  did  not  live  to  see. 
To  this  gentleman's  sister,  Mr.  Drew,  on  first  inspecting  the 
MS.,  wrote,  "  I  find  it,  on  perusal,  to  be  a  work  of  merit,  and 
one  that  is  likely  to  be  useful  to  such  as  patiently  investigate  j 
first  principles.  It  is  a  work  that  will  do  the  writer  credit,  andj 
prove  highly  serviceable  to  the  church  of  Christ."  Subse- 
quently he  observes,  "  I  have  read  every  line  with  attention ; 

*  Longman  and  Co.,  Paternoster-rowr. 


RESIDENCE  IN  LONDON. 


208 


and,  whether  I  consider  the  work  as  a  literary  production,  or  a 
theological  treatise,  it  needs  no  emendation." 

After  its  appearance,  Mr.  Drew  expressed  his  regret  that  a 
treatise  of  such  sterling  merit  should  have  been  so  little  noticed 
in  the  public  journals.  Some  surprise,  too,  he  felt,  that  the 
existence  of  a  book  so  intrinsically  valuable,  which  was  de- 
signed for  the  benefit  of  the  Wesleyan  mission  fund,  and  writ- 
ten by  a  gentleman  to  whom  the  Jamaica  mission  was  greatly 
indebted  for  pecuniary  aid  and  magisterial  protection,  should 
not  have  been  made  known  to  the  Methodist  connection,  through 
the  medium  of  its  Magazine.  Alluding  to  this  paucity  of  criti- 
cal information,  he  remarked,  "  The  plain  rea?on  is,  the  book 
will  require  much  time  and  thought  to  examine.  This  very  few 
are  disposed  to  bestow  ;  and  many  are  afraid  of  risking  their 
reputation  in  giving  an  opinion  on  a  work  they  but  partially 
understand.    Silence  can  tell  no  tales." 

There  is  nothing  more  in  the  early  period  of  Mr.  D.'s  abode 
in  London  that  demands  specific  notice.  Pursuing  a  regular 
occupation,  one  day  followed  another  with  little  variety  of  inci- 
dent. His  hands  were  full  of  work;  and  idle  time,  while  his 
strength  was  unimpaired,  he  neither  had  nor  wished.  With  his 
children  he  maintained  a  frequent  correspondence ;  nor  were 
his  distant  friends  forgotten.  In  one  of  his  letters  he  says, 
"  Besides  the  Magazine,  I  have,  at  this  time,  six  different  works 
in  hand,  either  as  author,  compiler,  or  corrector.  'Tis  plain, 
therefore,  I  do  not  want  work  ;  and,  while  I  have  health  and 
strength,  I  have  no  desire  to  lead  a  life  of  idleness  :  yet  I  am 
sometimes  oppressed  with  unremitting  exertion,  and  occasion- 
ally sigh  for  leisure  which  I  cannot  command."  This  inces- 
sant application  to  study  was  insensibly  wearing  him  out. 

Every  third  year  he  paid  a  montli's  visit  to  Cornwall.  It 
was  a  necessary  relaxation,  and  was,  to  himself,  his  family,  and 
his  acquaintances,  a  season  of  mutual  enjoyment.  At  one  of 
these  triennial  holydays,  he  and  his  children  were  called  to  sus- 
tain a  bereavement  which  preyed  upon  his  spirits,  and  gave  a 
shock  to  his  constitution. 

In  the  summer  of  1828,  he  was  accompanied,  as  usual,  in 
his  excursion  to  Cornwall,  by  his  beloved  wife,  whose  health, 

ough  naturally  delicate,  had  improved  during  her  residence  in 
London.  After  spending  a  fortnight  at  St.  Austell,  they  pro- 
ceeded to  Helston,  about  thirty  miles  distant,  where  other 
ranches  of  the  family  reside.  When  about  to  leave  St.  Aus- 
tell, Mrs.  Drew  complained  of  being  unwell ;  but  having  made 


204 


LIFE  OF  SAMUEL  DREW. 


arrangements  for  being  met  at  Truro,  the  intermediate  town, 
by  a  carriage  from  Helstoii,  she  would  not  consent  to  a  delay. 
On  her  arrival,  she  retired  immediately  to  bed, — from  which 
she  never  rose.  The  next  day  there  were  alarming  symptoms 
of  cholera  ;  the  day  following  her  case  was  deemed  hopeless; 
and  shortly  after  midnight  she  breathed  her  last.  She  was  then 
in  her  fifty-seventh  year. 

As  a  wife,  her  excellence  may  be  inferred  from  Mr.  Drew's 
grief  at  her  decease.  Her  maternal  affection  was  exhibited  in 
her  constant  solicitude  for  her  children's  present  and  eternal 
welfare.  Her  faith  and  conduct,  as  a  Christian,  were  such  as  to 
warrant  the  expectation  which  her  last  moments  verified  : — 
"She  died  in  resignation  to  the  will  of  God,  and  relying  on 
Christ  for  salvation."  Such  was  Mr.  Drew's  concise  but  com- 
prehensive statement  to  a  friend,  a  few  days  after  his  loss.  A 
private  memorandum  found  in  his  pocket-book  runs  thus : — "  My 
dear  wife  Honour  died,  about  twenty  minutes  before  one,  on  the 
morning  of  Tuesday,  August  19th,  1828,  at  the  house  of  Mr. 
John  Read,*  Helston,  Cornwall,  and  was  buried,  on  the  Friday 
following,  in  the  churchyard  of  that  place." 

The  effect  of  this  sudden  calamity  upon  feelings  so  acute  as 
Mr.  Drew's  can  be  imagined  only  by  those  whose  sensibilities 
are  as  refined  as  his.  "  When  my  wife  died,"  he  has  often 
been  heard  to  say,  "  my  earthly  sun  set  for  ever."  Yet  he 
bore  the  stroke  with  the  submission  of  a  Christian,  and,  as  a 
Christian  father,  administered  comfort  and  counsel  to  his  sorrow- 
ing children.  The  consolations  of  religion,  and  the  resignation 
of  faith,  to  which,  a  few  months  previously,  he  had  directed  the 
attention  of  his  eldest  son  and  wife,  on  the  loss  of  two  of  their 
children,  now  administered  relief  to  his  own  mind. 

"I  have  no  doubt,"  he  then  observed,  "that  these  afflictive 
dispensations  are  sent  in  mercy  ;  and,  if  we  could  always  con- 
nect causes  and  effects  together,  we  should  be  ready  to  say, 

'  For  us  they  sicken,  and  for  us  they  die.' 

The  light  of  eternity  will,  however,  soon  beam  upon  the  shad- 
ows of  time  ;  and  the  tears  of  this  life,  if  properly  improved,  j 
will  be  a  prelude  to  the  smiles  of  the  next.  Such  strokes  cuti 
the  fibres  that  twine  round  the  heart,  and  anchor  it  to  the  world  M 
and  when  we  follow  our  departed  friends  to  the  grave,  the  tiesl 
yerge  towards  that  future  world  where  all  must  go,  and  where 


*  Mr.  Drew's  son-in-law. 


HIS  WIFE  S  DEATH. 


205 


parting  will  be  no  more.  On  these  occasions,  judgment  and 
feeling  are  at  war ;  and  time  only  can  reconcile  their  decisions. 
We  learn,  hence,  the  mutability  of  all  earthly  hopes,  prospects, 
and  expectations,  and  the  necessity  of  confiding  on  the  rectitude 
of  the  Divine  will,  even  when  we  cannot  trace  the  causes  of 
those  mysterious  dispensations." 

On  the  30th  of  August,  Mr.  Drew  and  his  youngest  daughter, 
henceforward  the  companion  of  his  solitude,  took  their  depart- 
ure from  the  spot  where  his  wife's  remains  and  his  own  joye 
were  buried,  and  returned  to  London. 

The  poignant  feelings  of  the  man  religion  and  philosophy- 
controlled,  but  could  not  subdue.  From  this  period  his  spirits 
lost  much  of  their  buoyancy,  and  the  approaches  of  age  became 
more  evident.  Incessant  occupation  withdrew  his  thoughts  by 
day  from  the  painful  subject ;  but  they  returned  with  fresh  in- 
tensity when  the  shadows  of  evening  fell.  Though  his  body 
retained  much  of  the  activity  of  youth,  and  the  vigour  of  his 
mind  was  not  sensibly  impaired,  he  now  began  to  feel  his  lit- 
erary avocations  a  task  rather  than  a  pleasure, — to  look  upon 
himself  as  in  a  stale  of  exile  from  Cornwall,  which  held  almost 
all  that  was  dear  to  him, — and  occasionally  to  sigh  for  the  pe- 
riod of  his  release  from  labour,  and  of  his  final  rest  in  the  place 
of  his  birth. 

A  circumstance  which  occurred  not  long  before  Mrs.  Drew's 
decease  rendered  his  constitution  more  susceptible  of  a  sec- 
ond shock.  One  Sunday  morning,  in  May,  18:J8,  he  was  ap- 
pointed to  preach  at  Tottenham,  five  miles  from  London  ;  and 
he  had  also  engaged  to  preach  in  the  evening  at  Spilalfields. 
Having  dined  with  a  friend,  after  performing  his  duty  at  Tot- 
tenham, he  waited  in  vain  for  a  coach  to  carry  him  to  London, 
and  was  compelled  to  set  olT  on  foot.  Being  late,  he  walked 
at  his  utmost  speed,  a  distance  of  six  miles,  and,  bathed  in  per- 
spiration, arrived  at  the  chapel  almost  exhausted,  and  immedi- 
ately ascended  the  pulpit.  From  the  consequence  of  this  over- 
exertion, and  a  severe  cold  which  followed,  he  never  properly 
recovered.  Though  he  could  walk  two  or  three  miles  as  well 
as  ever,  a  longer  distance  would  overpower  him.  To  this  cir- 
cumstance he  frequently  referred  with  much  regret,  as  having 
Ibeen  more  injurious  to  his  constitution  than  any  other  occur- 
'rence. 

This  inroad  upon  his  previously  firm  health,  followed  by  the 
loss  of  his  wife,  will  explain  the  tone  of  despondency  so  per. 
ceptible  in  many  of  his  subsequent  letters.    Two  of  these, 
S 


206 


LIFE  OF  SAMUEL  DEE\y. 


written  shortly  after  his  return  to  London,  give  a  correct  repre- 
sentation of  his  views  and  feelings. 

"  38  Newgate-street,  London, 
"  October  10,  1828. 

My  dear  Sister, 

"  Your  kind  and  consoling  letter,  which  you  sent  by  some 
private  hand  to  Plymouth,  reached  me  in  safety,  by  post,  from 
that  place.  I  was  glad  to  hear  that  you  were  all  well,  and  can 
easily  conceive  that  you  sympathize  in  niy  affliction,  the  sever- 
ity of  which  I  feel  in  all  its  force.  My  bereavement  has  ren- 
dered the  world  to  me  a  dreary  blank ;  as  all  our  dreams  of 
crowning  '  a  youth  of  labour  with  an  age  of  ease'  are  totally 
defeated  ;  and,  like  Selkirk,  '  I  must  finish  my  journey  alone.' 
I  am,  however,  aware  that  'troubles  spring  not  from  the  dust, 
nor  sorrows  from  the  ground  ;'  and  I  trust  I  can  say,  '  The 
Lord  gave  and  the  Lord  hath  taken  away,  blessed  be  the  name 
of  the  Lord.'  I  have  received  a  wound,  the  poignancy  of  which 
time  may  mitigate,  but  which  nothing  can  fully  heal. 

"  We  are  in  the  same  apartments  we  have  occupied  for 
nearly  three  years,  and,  if  all  be  well,  shall  continue  here  until 
the  25lh  of  March.  Mary  is  housekeeper,  and  we  have  a  ser- 
vant. Things  go  on  much  as  usual.  By  day  I  am  fully  en- 
gaged ;  but  in  the  evenings,  and  by  night,  I  feel  my  situation 
in  all  its  force.  My  health  is  still  good,  but  my  sleep  is  fre- 
quently broken  and  disturbed.  Mary  has  generally  the  daugh- 
ter of  a  friend  with  her,  both  by  day  and  by  night,  which 
breaks  the  gloom  of  her  solitude. 

***** 

"  We  have  many  kind  friends,  at  whose  houses  we  might 
go  every  night,  were  we  so  disposed.  I  find,  however,  that, 
with  all  its  solitude,  home  is  tlie  best  place,  although  I  feel  a 
degree  of  restlessness,  of  which  I  can  scarcely  perceive  the 
cause. — I  sometimes  walk  the  room  for  hours  in  tlie  evening, 
with  thoughts  wandering  up  and  down,  immerged  in  mental 
dreams.  *  *  *  * 

"  Your  affectionate  brother, 

"  Samuel  Drew. 

"  Mrs.  Kingdon,  Tyivardreath," 

"  15  Owen's-row  [Islington],  Nov.  17,  1828.  j| 
"  Although  I  have  long  omitted  to  ansvver  your  kind  note,  I  j 
can  assure  you,  my  dear  friend,  that  it  has  not  been  either  neg- 
lected or  forgotten.    From  my  recent  bereavement,  as  you 
may  naturally  suppose,  my  spirits  have  been  much  depressed, 


RESIDENCE  IN  LONDON. 


207 


so  that  exertion  of  every  kind  has  become  a  burden.  In  addi- 
tion to  this,  I  have  for  some  weeks  been  afflicted  with  a  se- 
vere cold,  accompanied  with  a  troublesome  cough,  disturbed 
repose,  and  a  loss  of  appetite.  For  some  time  past  I  have 
carefully  avoided  the  night  air,  and,  through  a  kind  Prov- 
idence, am  now  better.  I  walked  to  Hoxton,  and  preached 
yesterday  in  the  morning,  but  found  the  task  rather  too  much. 
I  intend,  in  future,  to  preach  only  once  a  day ;  and,  unless  my 
health  get  restored,  to  quit  the  plan  altogether. 

"  For  your  kind  invitation,  be  pleased,  my  dear  friend,  to 
accept  mysincerest  thanks;  but,  under  existing  circumstances, 
I  cannot  leave  my  home  by  night,  and,  until  I  can  brave  the 
evening  air,  I  must  enjoy  your  company  by  anticipation.  I 
hope,  however,  between  this  and  Christmas,  to  pay  you  a  visit, 
but  cannot,  at  present,  appoint  either  day  or  time.  The  weather 
and  my  state  of  health  must  arbitrate. 

"  You  also,  my  dear  friend,  have  been  called  to  taste  the 
afflictions  of  life,  in  the  death  of  your  friends,  and  to  suffer 
from  several  quarters.  I  am  glad,  however,  to  find'  that  your 
health  is  somewhat  restored,  though  not  to  that  state  of  viva- 
city and  exuberance  which  marked  other  years. 

"  We  have  only  to  look  back  on  a  few  departed  months  to 
be  convinced  that  nothing  is  stable  beneath  the  sun.  My 
warning  has  been  imperious,  to  be  always  ready ;  death  hav- 
ing visited  my  abode  in  a  most  unexpected  moment.  I  trust 
that  I  feel  resigned  to  this  gloomy  dispensation  of  Providence  ; 
and  I  cannot  but  be  thankful  that  my  dear  wife  was  permitted 
to  see  her  children  reared  to  maturity,  and  finally,  after  paying 
each  a  visit,  to  breathe  her  last  in  their  arms. 

"  That  God  may  give  you  every  blessing,  for  time  and  eter- 
nity, and  extend  the  same  to  every  member  of  your  family, 
is  the  sincere  desire  of  my  heart.  To  my  dear  friend  Mr. 
Smith  I  desire  to  be  particularly  remembered.  I  hope  to  see 
him  ere  long.    In  the  mean  while,  believe  me  to  be 

"  Yours,  most  sincerely  and  affectionately, 

"  Samuel  Drew. 

"  Mrs.  Richard  Smith,  Stoke-Newington.'" 

i  Mr.  Drew's  letters  in  1829,  and  the  two  following  years, 
indicate  a  partial  restoration  of  strength  and  spirits,  while  ihey 
fexpress  an  unabated  desire  for  a  return  to  his  native  county. 

In  July,  1829,  he  writes  to  his  sister,  "  I  still  look  forward 
to  a  residence  in  Cornwall ;  but  such  is  the  uncertainty  of  life, 
and  of  all  our  calculations,  that  we  know  not  what  a  day 


208 


LIFE   OF  SAMUEL  DREW. 


may  bring  forth.  I  find  my  sight  failing ;  but  not  more  so  than 
from  my  age  I  might  naturally  expect.  I  can  neither  read  nor 
write  without  spectacles  ;  ancl  by  night,  unless  the  light  is  good, 
these  are  barely  sufficient.  My  chief  complaint  is  broken  and 
disturbed  sleep.  You  also  have  been  unwell,  and  even  now 
feel  its  effects.  You  must  not  forget  that  the  same  Power  and 
Goodness  that  have  hitherto  supported,  are  still  the  same,  in 
all  their  energy  and  kindness  ;  and,  relying  on  these,  you  can 
have  nothing  to  fear.  Since  my  indisposition  last  winter,  I 
have  preached  only  once  on  Sundays,  and  I  think  I  shall  not 
undertake  an  increase  of  appointments." 

In  writing  to  Iter  on  the  following  March,  he  observes, 
"Though  the  past  winter  has  been  peculiarly  severe,  yet, 
thanks  be  to  God,  I  have  suflered  less  than  I  did  during  the  pre- 
ceding winter.  I  had  a  slight  cold,  but  carefully  avoided  going 
out  at  night,  except  when  it  was  indispensable.  I  am  visited 
with  the  infirmities  of  sixty-jive,  but  they  are  not  severe.  They 
only  operate  as  friendly  monitor*,  that  others  more  decisive  in 
their  character,  and  more  momentous  in  their  consequences, 
are  not  distant.  May  I  be  prepared  to  meet  them  !  Thus  far 
I  have  visited  Cornwall  once  in  three  years.  I  was  there  in 
the  never-to-be-forgotten  year  1828,  and  hope,  should  Provi- 
dence spare  my  life,  to  revisit  it  in  the  summer  of  1831,  when 
we  shall  once  more  have  an  opportunity  of  meeting.  Indeed, 
if  I  find  my  health  decline,  so  that  I  cannot  attend  to  the  duties 
of  my  office,  I  may  see  you  before ;  for  I  never  intend  tarry- 
ing here  longer  than  I  am  able  to  transact  my  business : — 
while  I  have  health  and  strength,  I  would  as  soon  be  employed 
as  do  nothing.  Should  I  live  to  see  you  in  1831,  I  shall 
have  tlien  come  to  some  decision  respecting  my  future  move- 
ments. In  the  mean  time,  let  me  hear  from  you  whenever  you 
can  find  time  to  write.  I  am  always  pleased  to  see  your  hand- 
writing, as  it  recalls  departed  days  which  can  return  no  more." 

During  the  same  month,  March,  1830,  he  writes  to  his  eldest 
daughter, — "  On  the  3(1  of  this  month  I  entered  on  my  66th 
year,  but  have  fewer  of  the  infirmities  of  that  age  than  most  of 
my  contemporaries.  I  trust,  however,  I  shall  not  forget  that 
my  threescore  years  and  ten  are  at  no  great  distance.  My  only 
ground  of  hope  for  final  salvation  is  on  the  merits  of  our  Lord 
Jesus  Christ."  A  few  months  afterward  he  observes  to  her,! 
"  I  could  wish  that  I  was  not  bound  to  labour  daily  with 
scarcely  any  intermission ;  but  such  is  the  nature  of  my  em- 
ployment that  I  must  be  constantly  at  my  post.  Sleeping 
badly  by  night,  I  could  frequently  sleep  in  the  morning ;  but, 


RESIDENCJi   IN  LONDON. 


209 


when  the  hour  arrives,  I  must  start  from  my  bed,  and  attend  to 
duty.  My  daily  roinine  i.><,  to  ri^e  at  half-past  seven ;  get 
breakfast,  and  go  to  the  office,  by  nine  ;  dine  at  one,  return  to 
the  office  at  two,  and  finally  leave  at  six  or  half-jiast." 

In  the  summer  of  this  year  he  writes  thus  cheerfully  and 
feelingly  to  one  of  his  old  associates  : — 

"  38  Newgate-street,  London,  July  30,  1830. 
"  My  old  and  kind  Friend, 

"About  a  month  has  elapsed  since  the  arrival  of  the  fish; 
and  from  tiieir  appearance,  until  the  present,  we  have  been 
occasionally  feeding  on  your  bounty.  For  these  fish,  be  pleased 
to  receive  the  thanks,  both  jointly  and  severally,  of  Samuel 
Drew  and  Mary  Drew.  Thus  far  we  can  testify  our  gratitude  ia 
writing  ;  but,  if  we  live  to  see  the  ensuing  summer,  we  hope  to 
have  an  opportunity  of  cominunicating  it  in  person. 

"  Two  years  have  almost  gone  by  since  my  late  eventful 
journey  into  Cornwall :  what  another  year  may  revolve,  who 
can  say  ?  We  have,  my  friend,  travelled  along  the  stream  of 
life  together  for  many  years,  and  have  seen  new  generations 
rise,  and  old  ones  pass  away.  We,  who  were  the  young,  are 
now  the  aged,  and  already  become  the  chroniclers  of  departed 
times.  The  period  cannot  be  remote  when  we  also  shall  be 
buried  amid  the  wrecks  of  things  which  were. 

"  During  the  last  eleven  years  we  have  been  separated,  and 
God  only  knows  if  we  may  ever  live  together  again  in  the  same 
town.  I  always  calculate  on  coming  to  Cornwall,  in  the 
evening  of  my  days,  to  sit  down  in  quietness,  and  'keep  life's 
flame  from  wasting  by  repose ;'  but  unforeseen  events  demand 
procrrastination,  and  the  tide  may  overtake  me  before  I  can  retire. 

"On  the  whole,  my  health  is  good.  My  chief  complaint  is, 
that  I  sleep  badly.  I  am  not  yet  grown  corpulent,  but  my 
appetite  is  tolerably  good.  I  sometimes  sigh  for  relaxation, 
which  the  duties  of  my  station  will  not  allow  ;  but 

'  Hope  travels  through,  nor  quits  us  when  we  die.' 

"You  can  hardly  have  any  conception  what  sensations  the 
announcement  of  deaths  in  the  papers  excites.  My  old  friends 
seem  falling  on  every  side.  I  fancy  I  shall  be  almost  a  stranger 
[to  my  native  town.  Our  departure,  my  friend,  cannot  be  remote  : 
U  have  already  been  visited  with  the  infirmities  of  sixty-five, 
and  those  of  sixty-six  are  coming  on  me,  through  my  specta- 
cles. May  we  be  prepared  for  the  solemn  moment  when 
death  shall  come. 

S2 


210 


LIFE  OF  SAMUEL  DREW. 


"Give  my  love  to  Mrs.  Wheeler  and  every  branch  of  the 
family,  and  believe  me  to  be,  with  the  utmost  sincerity,  yours, 

"  Samuel  Drew. 

•«  Mr.  John  Wheeler,  St.  Ausiell." 

About  the  commencement  of  1830,  a  request  was  made  to 
Mr.  Drew,  by  some  members  of  the  council  of  the  London 
University,  that  he  would  allow  himself  to  be  put  in  nomination 
for  the  vacant  chair  of  Moral  Philosophy.  Though  the  emol- 
uments of  the  professorship  would  have  doubled  his  income, 
so  great  was  his  reluctance  to  prolong  iiis  stay  in  the  metro- 
polis, that  he  declined  the  flattering  pro[)osal. 

Speaking  of  the  proposition  afterward  to  one  of  his  children, 
he  observes,  "  When  it  was  made  to  me,  the  time  of  my  intended 
stay  in  London  was  drawing  near  its  close ;  and,  for  a  year 
or  two  only,  I  did  not  think  it  proper,  or  worth  my  while,  to 
engage." 


SECTION  XXIV. 

Mr.  Drew's  prolonged  residence  in  London — Effect  of  Dr.  Clarke's  death 
on  him — His  health  visibly  declines — His  reluctance  to  yield  to  the  de- 
mands of  an  enfeebled  constitution — Rapid  diminution  of  strength — He 
leeolves  to  quit  London. 

In  the  summer  of  1831  Mr.  Drew  again  visited  Cornwall. 
The  "  blossoms  of  the  grave"  were  now  plentifully  sprinkled 
over  his  venerable  head  ;  while  the  marks  of  care  and  shadows 
of  age  were  seen  in  the  deepeniiig  lines  of  his  countenance. 
Still  he  retained  much  of  his  former  vivacity,  and,  in  his  fami- 
liar and  playful  sallies,  showed  that  his  elasticity  of  spirits  was 
not  subdued.  But  in  the  faces  of  the  remaining  companions  of 
his  youth  he  saw  the  tokens  of  advancing  age  ;  and  so  power- 
fully was  he  affected  by  these  indications  of  the  ravages  of 
time,  that  when,  on  this  occasion,  he  stood  to  address  his 
townsmen  from  the  pulpit,  he  was  unable  to  proceed,  till  his 
emotion  had  found  vent  in  tears.  > 

This  year,  according  to  his  former  calculations,  was  to  re-  ( 
lease  him  from  his  literary  engagements.  Had  he  yielded  to 
the  reiterated  and  pressing  solicitations  of  iiis  children  and 
friends,  his  life  would  probably  have  been  prolonged.  Unforeseen 


RESIDENCE  IN  LONDON. 


211 


occurrences  had,  however,  deranged  his  pecuniary  calcuhitions, 
and  left  him.  with  respect  to  liis  domestic  arrangements,  as 
much  afloat  as  he  was  several  years  before.  Preferring  the 
welfare  of  his  children  to  his  personal  ease,  he  resolved,  for 
their  sakes,  to  devote  two  years  more  to  labour;  and  to  his 
strong  parental  attachment  became  a  martyr.  Nor  was  it 
without  a  foreboding  of  this  result  that  he  adopted  the  resolu- 
tion ;  for  to  one  of  his  children  he  writes,  about  this  period,  "I 
sometimes  fear  I  shall  be  chained  to  the  oar  for  life,  though  at 
others  I  indulge  a  hope  that  I  shall  leave  work  before  death 
compels  me.  ' 

To  his  sister  he  remarks  in  November,  "  My  time  is,  as 
usual,  much  occupied.  I  have  few  vacant  hours  or  idle  days, 
yet  I  still  look  forward  to  the  time  of  my  leaving  the  turmoil  of 
application,  and  of  coming  to  my  native  county.  I  have  long 
had  the  port  in  view ;  but  alas  !  contrary  wind  or  adverse 
current  has  again  driven  me  from  the  much-wished-for  harbour. 
I  am  still  at  sea ;  and  wait,  with  earnest  solicitude,  an  oppor- 
tunity to  cast  anchor  and  furl  my  sails."  And,  several  months 
afterward,  he  observes,  to  the  same  much-loved  relative,"! 
am  something  like  a  school-boy  waiting  the  arrival  of  the  ap- 
proaching holydays;  and  as  a  month  goes  by,  I  estimate  the 
probable  remainder.  But  all  is  in  the  hand  of  the  Almighty, 
in  whom  we  daily  live  and  move  and  have  our  being." 

There  was  no  further  indication  of  debility  or  declining 
health  until  the  summer  of  1832,  when  he  took  cold,  which 
was  followed  by  a  troublesome  cough.  Upon  a  constitution 
thus  beginning  to  give  way,  the  almost  sudden  death  of  his  long- 
tried  friend  and  spiritual  father  Dr.  Adam  Clarke,  in  August, 
produced  a  powerful  effect.  From  the  coincidence  between 
many  of  the  circumstances  of  his  wife's  death  and  that  of  his 
friend,  he  felt  it  with  double  force.  To  a  near  relative  of 
Dr.  Clarke,  whom  he  afterward  visited,  he  said  that  it  was  a 
death-blow  to  him — a  stroke  from  which  he  seemed  unable  to 
recover. 

At  this  period,  the  possibility  of  being  himself  suddenly  re- 
moved by  death  appears  to  have  been  forcibly  impressed  upon 
his  mind.  His  will,  and  important  papers,  hitherto  kept  in  his 
office,  he  brought  one  day  to  his  house,  saying  to  his  daughter, 
"  I  have  been  thinking,  Mary,  that  if  I  should  be  taken  ill,  or 
die  suddenly,  you  would  be  at  a  great  loss  how  to  act  about 
my  papers.  I  now  intend  to  keep  them  in  a  certain  place" 
(which  he  named),  "that  they  may  be  always  at  hand  when 
required." 


212 


LIFE  OF  SAMUEL  DREW. 


His  literary  occupation,  in  which  he  had  usually  taken 
a  pleasure,  he  now  began  to  feel  a  burthen  It  rtquired  an 
effort  to  rouse  himself,  and  pursue  it  with  his  usual  diligence. 
On  Saturday  evenings,  when  he  returned  home,  he  generally 
threw  himself  on  a  sofa,  saying,  "'I'hank  God,  there's  another 
week's  work  over,"  and  (when  he  liad  not  to  preach  on  the  Sun- 
day) would  add,  "and  a  day  of  rest  to-morrow." 

In  September,  1832,  his  youngest  daughter  was  married, 
and  Mr.  Drew  became  her  inmate.  At  the  close  of  that 
month,  he  remarks  to  another  member  of  his  family,  "  Early 
this  week  I  shut  up  housekeeping.  I  have  divided  my  furni- 
ture among  my  children,  and  am  now  residing  with  Mary,  at 
King's  Cross.  You  will  perceive,  from  these  preliminary  move- 
ments, that  I  am  preparing  to  weigh  anchor;  but  my  lime  is 
not  yet  come.  At  present  my  health  is  much  as  usual ;  and 
upon  its  continuance  will  depend  my  remaining  in  London." 

The  gradual  failure  of  his  health  will  be  perceived  in  his 
epistolary  statements.  Had  these  been  made  to  the  same  in- 
dividual, so  as  to  admit  of  comparison,  they  would  have 
earlier  awakened  the  apprehensions  of  his  family. 

October  29th,  1832,  he  thus  writes: — "During  the  last  three 
weeks,  I  have  not  been  altogether  so  well  as  formerly,  having 
a  cough,  and  occasional  pain  in  my  shattered  teeth.  My  ap- 
petite is,  however,  much  as  usual,  and  I  attend  to  my  avoca- 
tions without  interruption.  Tlius  far  I  have  walked  from  King's 
Cross  to  my  office  every  day,  and  back ;  and  I  believe  the 
getting  my  feet  wet  one  day  in  coming  to  the  office,  and  hav- 
ing no  shoes  there  to  change,  produced  the  cough  of  which  I 
complain." 

To  another  of  his  children  he  observes  shortly  afterward, 
"I  daily  lake  medicine,  which  has  proved  beneficial;  but  I 
have  much  strength  and  spirits  to  recover  before  I  shall  be 
equal  to  what  you  saw  me  in  1831."  Yet  so  fully  was  he  per- 
suaded of  his  debility  being  temporary,  that  within  a  month,  he 
writes  to  his  sister,  "  1  hope  in  my  next  to  say  that  my  health 
has  been  perfectly  restored.  My  period  of  probation  is  get- 
ting short.  I  trust,  for  several  reasons,  that  I  shall  live  to  see 
its  completion.  Cheer  up,  and  think  the  day  is  not  very  distant 
when  we  shall  meet  again  to  our  mutual  joy."  . 

The  renewal  of  a  request,  early  in  December,  that  he  would  j 
furnish  the  members  of  Dr.  Clarke's  family  with  his  recollec-  I 
tions  of  his  deceased  friend,  elicited  from  Mr.  Drew  the 
following  reply,  significant  of  extreme  bodily  weakness. 


DECLINING  HEALTH. 


213 


"  15  Owen's-row,  Dec.  I2th,  1832. 

"Yes,  my  dear  friend,  conscience,  judgment,  friendship,  and 
the  repeated  importunities  of  my  daughter  have  long  dictated 
what  your  letter  urges.  And  what  apology  shall  I  make  ? 
Day  succeeded  to  day,  and  saw  my  resolution  to  write  unaccom- 
plished, and,  even  now,  my  writing  must  consist  rather  of 
promise  than  of  performance. 

"During  the  last  two  months  I  have  been  afflicted  with  a 
violent  cough,  which,  disturbing  my  repose  by  night,  has 
brought  on  such  a  lassitude  and  depression  of  spirits,  accom- 
panied with  pliysical  weakness,  that  every  exertion  beyond 
the  mere  rouiine  of  duty  has  presented  a  mountain  that  I  could 
not  scale.  I  am  glad,  however,  to  slate,  that  my  cough  has, 
during  the  last  few  days,  in  a  great  measure  subsided  ;  but  I 
gather  strength  only  by  slow  degrees. 

"  On  the  23d  instant  I  am  appointed  to  Stoke-Newington, 
and  hope  to  be  there,  if  my  strength  will  allow.  About  a  fort- 
night since,  Mr.  Chaille  called  on  me,  and  insisted  on  my 
dining  with  him.  I  told  him  I  was  your  properly,  and  your 
consent  was  the  only  condition  on  which  I  could  engage.  This, 
therefore,  you  must  settle  between  yourselves. 

"  A  long  letter  respecting  your  late  dear  and  honoured  father 
I  always  intended  to  write.  I  have  never  forgotten  it ;  but  as 
the  first  volume  of  his  biography  will  soon  appear,  1  am 
anxious  to  postpone  it  till  that  time;  as  the  names,  persons, 
places,  times,  and  circumstances  will  suggest  many  ideas 
which  I  cannot  now  command.  Many  little  occurrences, 
illustrative  of  facts  he  may  have  mentioned,  will  then  recur  to 
the  memory,  and  perhaps  tend  to  elucidate  the  exertions  and 
activity  of  his  early  life.  In  this  opinion,  and  the  propriety  of 
temporary  postponement,  I  think  you  will  concur,  especially 
when  I  assure  you  that  nothing  but  inability  shall  prevent  me 
from  fuUiliing  my  promise. 

"  To  Mrs.  Rowley  I  am  indebted  a  letter ;  and  this  obliga- 
tion I  hope  soon  to  discharge.  I  am,  at  times,  overwhelmed 
with  the  business  of  the  office,  and  almost  ready  to  sink  under 
the  weight;  but  if  blessed  with  healih  and  spirits  I  care  not. 
I  find  the  shadows  of  evening  gathering  round  me,  and  I  trust 
I  shall  he  found  prepared  for  my  approaching  summons. 
[  "  That  God  may  favour  you,  Mr.  Smith,  Mrs.  Clarke,  and 
all  the  family,  with  every  blessing,  for  time  and  eternity,  is  the 
earnest  desire  of  "  Yours,  most  sincerely, 

"  Samuel  Drew. 

"  Mrs.  Richard  Smith, 
"Palatine  Houses,  Stoke-Newington.'" 


214 


IIFE  OF  SAMUEL  DREW. 


Writing  to  his  eldest  daughter,  December  29th,  Mr.  D.  re- 
marks, "You  mention  my  being  with  you  next  Christmas  eve. 
Nearly  the  same  thought  has  passed  through  my  mind,  and  on 
Christmas  eve  we  were  talking  about  it.  But  alas  !  when  I 
reflect  on  the  precarious  state  of  my  health,  and  notice  the 
evidences  of  mortality  with  which  I  am  surrounded,*  I  dare  no 
make  such  distant  calculations.  Still,  however,  I  entertain  a 
hope  and  even  a  persuasion  that  we  shall  meet  again,  as  1833 
is  near  at  hand,  and  its  months  will  glide  rapidly  away." 

About  New-year's-day,  1833,  an  intimate  London  friend  of 
Mr.  Drew,  then  on  a  journey  through  Cornwall,  received,  while 
at  Helston,  a  letter  from  his  lady,  stating,  among  other  proofs 
of  Mr  Drew's  excessive  debility,  that,  calling  at  their  house  as 
he  iiad  been  in  the  habit  of  doing,  he  sank  down  in  syncope 
through  the  exertion  of  walking,  and  scarcely  recovered  during 
the  day.  His  children,  being  apprized  of  tliis,  besought  him 
instantly  to  leave  London,  and  two  of  them  proposed  proceeding 
thither  to  accompany  him  to  Cornwall.  Their  anxieties  were 
for  a  time  suspended,  but  not  removed,  by  his  reply.  It  was 
addressed  to  one  branch  of  his  family,  but  designed  for  all. 

"38  Newgate-street,  London, 
"  Jan.  15,  1838. 

"  My  dkar  Anna  and  John, 

"  On  my  return  to  King's  Cross,  last  evening,  I  received  your 
very  kind  letter,  the  contents  of  which  at  once  gratified,  amused, 
and  vexed  me.  I  was  gratified  with  your  kind  solicitude  for 
my  health,  and  anxiety  to  have  me  among  you, — amused  at  the 
strange  exaggeration  which  has  been  given  of  my  indisposition, 
— and  vexed  to  think  you  should  have  been  made  the  subjects 
of  such  needless  alarm. 

"  You  seem,  my  dear  Anna,  to  write  as  though  I  was  become 
an  infirm,  debilitated  old  man,  scarcely  able  to  do  any  thing 
without  assistance.  In  this  1  can  assure  you  that  you  have 
been  greatly  deceived.  I  have  never  yet,  through  indisposition, 
been  absent  one  day  from  my  office,  where  i  stand  to  my  desk 
just  as  I  did  seven  years  ago.  I  only  sometimes  sit  down  when 
I  am  reading.  Both  Mary  and  myself  smiled  last  evening  at 
the  idea  of  my  coming  to  Cornwall  by  easy  stages,  and  sleep- 
ing by  night  at  inns,  and  of  either  you  or  .Tohn  coming  to, 
assist  me  on  my  arduous  journey.  Believe  me,  my  dear  chil-| 
dren,  were  I  disposed  to  undertake  the  journey,  that  from  Lon- 

*  Alluding  especially  to  the  illness  of  Mrs.  Drew's  mother,  who  died 
shortly  after,  at  the  advanced  age  of  85. 


DECLINING  HEALTH. 


215 


don  to  Falmouth,  inside  a  coach,  Avould  leave  but  little  neces- 
sity for  relaxation  or  assistance  on  the  way.  I  could  step  in 
and  skip  out  with  but  little  diminution  of  my  former  agility. 
With  your  kind  request,  '  that  1  prepare  to  leave  London  imme- 
diately,' it  is  scarcely  possible  for  me  to  comply.  While  able 
as  I  am  to  attend  to  the  duties  of  my  s-taiion,  I  cannot  leave  so 
abruptly.  In  addition  to  this,  the  winter  is  creeping  away.  I 
ride  both  home  and  out,  and  in  my  office  have  a  nice  lire  to  keep 
me  warm.  My  health  is  much  better  than  it  was  during  the 
month  of  November  and  early  part  of  December.  My  appe- 
tite is  good,  and  my  strength  is  increasing.  My  cough  also  is 
less  frequent  and  troublesome  than  it  was  about  two  months 
since.  Sometimes  I  have  no  cough  whatever  for  several 
hours,  until  the  collection  of  mucus  in  the  lungs  requires  an 
effort  of  nature  to  effect  its  disciiarge. 

"  My  mode  of  living  is  as  follows  : — I  generally  rise  at  eight, 
get  my  breakfast  and  reach  the  office  at  half-past  nine  ;  carry 
something  with  me  for  lunch  ;  and,  without  going  home  to  din- 
ner, remain  until  four  in  the  afternoon,  when  1  return  home, 
and  come  no  more  for  that  day.  With  my  lunch  I  take  a  glass 
or  two  of  port  wine,  a  bottle  of  which  I  keep  in  my  desk.  On 
returning  home  at  four,  I  have  either  dinner  or  tea,  as  may  be 
most  inviting.  My  greatest  source  of  complaint  is,  that  I  sleep 
badly.  This  has  been  my  portion  ever  since  1828,  and  will 
most  probably  be  my  companion  to  the  grave. 

"  You  ask,  '  Have  you  -ipplied  to  a  physician  ?'  I  answer.  No  : 
and,  unless  I  suffer  a  relapse,  I  do  not  intend  it :  I  am  not  will- 
ing to  ascribe  that  to  a  pliysician  which,  under  a  kind  Provi- 
dence, nature  is  doing  for  me.  If,  as  the  spring  comes  on,  I 
find  that  my  cough  does  not  wholly  subside,  and  leave  me  in 
restored  health,  1  shall  about  July  adopt  the  measures  you 
now  recommend.  With  debilitated  health  1  shall  never  en- 
counter another  late  autumn  in  London.  I  therefore  most  sol- 
emnly pledge  myself,  unless  I  find  my  health  established  in 
the  spring,  to  leave  London  about  July  or  August ;  and  in  that 
case  shall  be  glad  for  Anna,  more  particiilai  ly,  to  come  up  and 
see  her  sister,  and  then  we  can  return  together.  I  hope  I  shall 
not  require  any  assistance  beyond  what  she  can  render. 

"I  do  now,  my  dear  Anna,  most  sincerely  assure  you,  that, 
;to  the  best  of  my  knowledge,  I  have  given  an  impartial  account 
of  my  heahh;  and  no  consideration  shall  induce  me  to  tarry 
here  to  endanger  life  ;  but  as  I  am  better  than  I  was,  and  spring 
is  advancing,  I  am  willing  to  try  a  few  months  longer,  and  in  the 
result  shall  be  guided  hy  circumstances.    I  hope  this  long 


216 


LIFE   OF  SAMUEL  DREW. 


letter  will  gain  some  credit,  to  put  your  apprehensions  to  rest. 
With  love  to  all  friends, 

"  I  remain,  dear  Anna  and  John, 

"  Your  affectionate  father, 

"  Samukl  Drew. 

"  Mrs.  John  Read,  Helston." 

Thus  assured,  his  children  endeavoured  to  dismiss  their  fears, 
and,  having  exacted  from  their  father  a  promise  to  consult  a 
physician,  fondly  hoped  that  tiiey  should  receive  further  con- 
firmation of  his  returning  health  and  strength. 

On  Sunday  morning,  January  20,  1833,  Mr.  Drew  preached 
at  Middlesex  chapel,  in  the  first  London  circuit,  from  Isaiah 
Iv.  6,  7, — "  Seek  ye  the  Lord  while  he  may  be  found,  call  ye 
upon  him  while  he  is  near.  Lei  the  wicited  forsake  his  way, 
and  the  unrigiileous  man  his  thoughts ;  and  let  him  return  unto 
the  Lord,  and  he  will  have  mercy  upon  him,  and  to  our  God, 
for  he  will  abundantly  pardon."  He  rode  from  his  daughter's 
house  to  Old-street,  and  walked  thence  to  the  chapel :  from 
the  chapel  he  walked  to  a  friend's  at  Hackney,  where  he  dined: 
from  Hackney  he  walked  to  City-road,  and  thence  rode 
home.    This  was  his  last  sermon. 

In  the  letters  which  follow,  the  reader  will  perceive  those 
continued  indiciations  of  decay  which,  from  tenderness  to  his 
children,  he  was  scarcely  willing  to  admit,  lest  they  should  be 
needlessly  alarmed. 

"  15  Owen's-row,  Feb.  4,  1833. 

"Your  kind  inquiries  and  solicitude  for  my  health  lay  me, 
my  dear  friend,  under  renewed  and  lasting  obligations.  I  am 
by  no  means  well ;  but  am  not  sufficiently  indisposed  to  neglect 
the  duties  of  my  office.  The  violence  of  my  cough  has  most 
decidedly  subsided  ;  and  I  am  looking  for  milder  days,  and  ap 
preaching  spring,  to  confirm  my  health.  In  the  mean  while  1 
feel  much  weakness,  languor,  and  lassitude,  which  render  al 
most  every  exertion  burdensome.  A  small  portion  of  effort 
creates  a  shortness  of  breath  ;  and  I  generally  feel  disposed 
sit  down  and  doze  in  silence.  At  the  same  time  my  appetite 
good,  but  my  sleep  broken  and  disturbed. 

"  For  your  kind  invitation,  to  come  on  any  Sunday  to  dinner,' 
I  feel  obliged,  and  will  avail  myself  of  the  first  opportunity 
prove  that  I  am  sincere.    I  cannot,  however,  fix  any  day  at 


P- 

i 

at  1 


DECLINING  HEALTH. 


217 


present ;  but,  come  when  I  will,  I  hope  to  be  with  you  soon 
after  one. 

"  Why  my  name  has  been  entirely  omitted  on  the  City-road 
plan,  I  am  at  a  loss  to  conjecture.  I  requested  Mr.  L.  to  give 
me  no  appointment  durine  the  quarter,  but,  at  all  events,  to  re- 
tain my  name,  as  it  would  jjive  me  eligibility  to  resume  my  la- 
bours, in  case  my  health  would  allow.  My  residence  at  pres- 
ent is  49  King's  Cross,  in  the  Queen-street  circuit;  and  on 
this  plan  Mr.  Marsden  has  inserted  my  name. 

"Of  me  and  my  metaphysical  talents  your  late  honoured 
father  has  spoken  in  terms  which  I  cannot  divest  of  hyperbole. 
Alas  !  I  shall  never  deserve  the  character. 

"The  letter  to  which  I  alluded  I  have  not  yet  begun.  You 
know,  with  me  the  latter  part  of  every  month  is  a  busy  time ; 
and  the  volume,  having  been  in  Mr.  Fisher's  hands  to  read,  has 
only  been  returned  to  me  about  three  days.  As  soon  as  the 
letter  is  finished,  it  shall  be  consigned  to  your  care. 

"  You  ask  if  I  have  begun  my  own  memoir?  I  reply,  No  ; 
and  must  wait  a  little,  until  the  grasshopper  ceases  to  be  a  bur- 
den. My  son-in-law  has,  however,  kindly  offered  to  write  for 
me  in  the  evenings,  if  I  will  dictate  and  furnish  materials. 

"  At  your  kindness  in  offering  me  a  pipe  I  cannot  but  smile  : 
— smoking  has  of  late  lost  nearly  all  its  charms.  This  im- 
portant affair  we  can  discuss  and  settle  when  we  meet.  Within 
two  or  three  Sundays  1  hope  to  see  you,  though  the  modes  of 
conveyance  from  hence  to  Stoke-Newington  are,  I  believe,  nei- 
ther numerous  nor  regular. 

"That  God  may  favour  you  and  yours  with  every  blessing 
for  time  and  eternity,  is  the  earnest  desire  of 

"  Yours  most  sincerely, 

"  Samuel  Drew. 

"  Mrs.  Richard  Smith,  Stoke-Newington." 

"  15  Owen's-row,  Goswell-street, 
"Feb.  12,  1833. 

"My  dear  Friend, 
"  The  long  letter,  that  had  long  been  promised,  is  sent  at 
last.  You  will  perceive  that  I  have  availed  myself  of  my 
daughter's  handwriting :  for  which  she  has  sent  many  apologies. 
My  weakness  would  not  permit  me  to  bear  the  pen  so  long : 
I  therefore  dictated  to  her,  and  you  have  the  result.  In  what 
is  sent,  you  are  at  perfect  liberty  to  adopt  or  reject  what  parts 
you  may  think  proper.  You  may  mutilate,  if  convenient,  ot 
omit  the  account  altogether. 


218 


LIFE  OF  SAMUEL  DREW. 


"  I  hope,  as  soon  as  I  recruit  a  little  strength,  to  pay  you  a 
visit ;  but  at  present  I  can  only  add,  that  I  must  sit  down  and 
rest,  after  thus  abruptly  bidding  you  farewell. 

"  Yours  most  sincerely, 

"  Samuel  Drew, 

"  Mrs.  Richard  Smith, 
"  Palatine  Houses,  Stolce-Newington.^' 

A  letter  from  Mr.  Drew's  youngest  daughter  to  her  sister, 
at  Helston,  on  the  22d  of  February,  again  awakened  the  fam- 
ily's solicitude.  It  spoke  of  her  father's  increasing  debility 
and  decreasing  appetite,  notwithstanding  the  medicine  pre- 
scribed by  the  physician.    But  to  this  was  added,  "  Dr.  C  , 

the  gentleman  whom  he  consults,  says,  he  ought  not  at  present 
to  leave  London,  because  he  requires  the  best  advice  London 
can  furnish  ;  and  this  opinion  must  be  disinterested,  since  he 
very  generously  declines  taking  any  fee."  His  immediate 
removal  was  therefore  not  urged,  however  greatly  it  was 
desired. 

The  question  will  probably  be  suggested,  why  did  Mr. 
Drew  continue  thus  to  struggle  against  wind  and  tide  ?  Why 
did  he  not  relinquish  his  occupation,  and  seek  repose  for  his 
over-wrought  frame  ?  One  reason  has  been  already  assigned, 
— his  attachment  to  his  children  ;  another  is  his  stability  of  pur- 
pose. He  had  assigned  himself  the  task  of  labouring  till  the 
approaching  summer,  and  was  not  disposed  to  shun  it  but  from 
extreme  necessiiy.  To  others  this  necessity  was  now  obvious  ; 
but,  feeling  no  acute  disease,  he  was  more  disposed  to  charge 
himself  with  Indolence  than  to  impute  his  aversion  from  labour 
to  physical  disability.  He  also  knew  that  the  Caxton  estab- 
lishment was  not  provided  with  a  successor;  and  he  believed 
it  his  duty,  at  whatever  personal  inconvenience  or  suffering,  to 
fulfil  his  obligations. 

His  last  note  to  Cornwall,  written  upon  a  scrap  of  paper, 
with  a  trembling  hand,  proved  that  his  powers  were  nearly 
exhausted. 

"  38  Newgate-street,  London,  Feb.  26,  1833. 
"  Mv  DEAR  Anna, 
"  I  have  neither  time  nor  strength  to  write  you  a  long  letter  1 
by  this  conveyance.    I  hope  in  a  few  days  to  send  you  a  long! 
one  by  post,  giving  you  an  account  of  my  visit  to  the  physi- 
cian, and  his  opinion  on  the  interview.   I  am  weak  and  feeble. 
My  appetite  is  but  indifferent ;  but  1  sleep  well. 


DECLINING  H£ALTU. 


219 


I  hope  in  July  my  final  probation  ends. 

"  Your  affectionate  father, 

"  Samuel  Drew. 

"  Mrs.  John  Read,  Helston." 

Alas !  before  July  his  mortal  probation  terminated ! — the 
thread  of  life  was  nearly  spun  I  The  day  after  the  receipt  of 
the  above,  which  came  by  a  private  hand,  Mrs.  Read  received 
from  her  sister  the  result  of  their  father's  visit  to  the  physician, 
dated  March  1st.  This  was,  that  medicine  could  avail  no- 
thing ;  tliat,  as  his  last  remedy,  he  ought  to  go  without  delay 
to  his  native  air,  and  free  himself  from  all  exertion  of  body 
and  mind ;  and  that  unless  he  went  soon,  he  would  be  unable 
to  go  at  all. 

Decisive  steps  were  now  imperative.  Mr.  Drew  felt  them 
to  be  so  ;  and  decided  upon  instantly  relinquishing  the  occupa- 
tion to  which  he  had  been  for  a  considerable  time  constraining 
himself.  To  his  eldest  son  and  daughter,  who  immediately 
upon  the  receipt  of  their  sister's  letter  had  left  Cornwall  to 
accompany  tlieir  father  thither,  his  debility  appeared  so  great 
as  to  render  it  a  matter  of  surprise  how  he  could  have  con- 
tinued at  his  labour  so  long.  His  appetite  was  gone — his 
whole  frame  emaciated  ;  and  he  was  not  only  willing  but 
anxious  to  wind  up  his  concerns  in  London,  and  bid  it  a  final 
adieu. 


SECTION  XXV. 

Effect  of  bodily  debility  on  Mr.  Drew's  mind — He  leaves  London — Hii 
journey  to  Cornwall — His  last  days  and  death — His  epitaph — Further 
particulars  of  his  decline — Tribute  of  his  townsmen  to  his  memory. 

To  his  editorial  duties  Mr.  Drew  attended  until  Saturday, 
March  2d,  the  last  day  of  his  68th  year.  On  Monday,  the 
4th,  at  the  request  of  his  family,  he  retnained  at  home.  On 
Tuesday  he  went  to  his  office  to  consult  with  Mr.  Fisher  on 
[the  propriety  of  immediately  relinquishing  his  engagements; 
but,  after  having  been  there  a  little  more  than  an  hour,  a  sud- 
den prostration  of  strength  occasioned  faintness.  He  was  then 
taken  home  by  a  kind  person  employed  on  the  premises,  and 
appeared  much  better  on  that  and  the  following  day.  On 


220 


LIFE  OF  SAMUEI,  DREW. 


Thursday  he  went  in  a  carriage  to  the  office,  accompanied  by 
his  daughter,  to  make  his  final  arrangements.  'I  he  exertion 
and  excitement  were  too  much  for  him.  He  sank  on  a  chair 
in  a  si-rite  of  great  exhaustion,  and  was  brought  to  his  daugh- 
ter's house  unable  to  walk  without  assistance. 

From  this  time  it  became  apparent  that  his  bodily  debility 
had  afl'ected  his  mind.  Indeed,  for  several  days  previously, 
frequent  instances  of  nervous  irritability,  remarkably  contrast- 
ing witii  his  philosophical  firmness,  showed  that  his  lofty 
powers  M'ere  yielding  with  his  sinking  frame.  Of  this  he  was 
conscious.  When  relating  to  his  son  his  last  interview  wiih 
the  physician,  among  other  particulars  he  observed,  "  Dr.  C. 
eaid  to  me,  '  It  has  been  your  misfortune,  Mr.  Drew,  to  enjoy 
almost  uninterrupted  health.  You  thought  your  constitution 
would  submit  to  any  thing ;  and  you  have  tasked  it  beyond 
endurance.  Your  soul,  sir,  has  been  too  great  for  your  body. 
This  is  breaking  down,  and  is  bearing  that  with  it ;  and  no- 
thing can  restore  your  energies  but  complete  freedom  from 
labour  and  excitement.'"  Feeling  the  truth  of  these  observa- 
tions, at  the  hazard  of  being  thought  unkind,  he  shunned  as 
much  as  possible  the  conversation  of  those  friends  whose  soli- 
citude for  his  health  led  them  to  make  frequent  personal  inqui- 
ries. For  the  same  reason  he  chose  to  be  under  the  care  of 
his  daughter  at  Helston,  and  to  avoid  even  passing  through  his 
native  town,  where  the  sight  of  so  many  well-known  faces 
would  overpower  him. 

As  his  weakness  would  not  permit  him  to  sit  up,  or  bear 
any  irregular  motion,  it  was  suggested  by  his  medical  adviser 
tliat  his  removal  to  Cornwall  should  be  by  water.  This,  it 
was  found,  would  occasion  much  delay  ;  and  preparations  were 
made  for  travelling  by  land.  The  inside  of  one  of  the  Exeter 
stage-coaches  having  been  engaged,  a  plank  was  laid  from 
seat  to  seat,  supporting  a  soft  mattress,  purposely  prepared, 
with  a  covering  of  blankets  to  ensure  the  requisite  degree  of 
warmth.  In  this  recumbent  posture  he  travelled,  attended  by 
his  two  children.  Sago  and  soup  were  the  only  articles  of 
nutriment  he  could  lake.  These,  as  they  could  not  be  pro- 
cured instantly  on  the  journey,  were  previously  provided,  and 
warmed  in  the  coach  by  a  spirit-lamp.  Cheered  at  the  pros- 
pect of  soon  breathing  Cornish  air,  and  pleased  with  the  prep- 
arations made  to  ensure  his  comfort  while  travelling,  he 
expressed  his  confidence  that  he  should  perform  the  journey 
with  little  inconvenience. 

On  Monday  afternoon,  March  11th,  Mr.  Drew  left  London, 


REMOVAL  FBOai  LONDON. 


221 


reaching  Exeter  with  less  fatigue  than  his  attendants  expected 
about  Tuesday  noon.  Here  he  rested  that  night.  The  fol- 
lowing night,  by  a  carriage  suited  to  his  manner  of  travelling, 
he  reached  Bodmin.  It  was  a  beautiful  morning  of  early 
spring  when  he  left  Exeter ;  and  the  sight  of  primroses  and 
furze  blossoms  on  the  hedges,  and  lambs  in  the  fields,  de- 
lighted and  exhilarated  him.  Frequently  during  the  day  he 
entered  into  conversation,  and  showed  all  his  former  self, — 
sometimes  displaying  his  natural  turn  for  raillery,  at  the  ex- 
pense of  his  companions.  At  these  indications  of  returning 
vigour  they  were  overjoyed,  unapprehensive  of  their  short 
duration.  Long  before  his  arrival  at  Bodmin  he  became  ex- 
hausted, and  his  late  distressing  symptoms  of  mental  aberration 
returned  ;  but  after  leaving  Launceston  there  was  no  other 
resting-place.  Two  days  were  occupied  with  the  remaining 
journey  of  forty  miles.  On  the  Thursday  night  he  slept  at 
Truro,  where  every  kindness  that  sympathy  could  dictate  was 
shown  by  the  proprietors  of  the  hotel,  to  whom  he  was  known. 
On  Friday  afternoon,  the  15th,  he  reached  Helston,  with 
apparently  recruited  strength  and  spirits — so  much  so,  that  he 
imagined  himself  capable  of  walking  from  the  carriage  to  the 
sitting-room  on  the  first  floor  of  his  daughter's  house  without 
help,  though  it  was  not  thought  prudent  for  him  to  make  the 
eflbrt. 

During  several  days  his  children  fondly  cherished  the  hope 
of  his  recovery ;  and  in  this  hope  believing  that  tranquillity 
would  be  his  chief  restorative,  they  forbore  proposing  questions 
which  might  rouse  him  to  mental  exertion,  and  even  sought  to 
divert  his  attention  from  such  topics  as  they  apprehended  would 
excite  his  feelings.  Further  indications  of  amendment,  how- 
ever, there  were  none.  Unfavourable  symptoms  recurred  ;  and, 
at  the  end  of  a  week  from  his  arrival  at  Helston,  the  medical 
attendant  intimated  his  opinion  that  it  was  a  case  of  incurable 
consumption,  which  must  soon  terminate  fatally. 

With  the  exhaustion  of  physical  strength  the  aberration  of 
his  intellect  increased  ;  and  during  the  last  week  of  his  life 
the  periods  of  collected  thought  were  infrequent,  and  very 
brief  In  consequence  of  this,  but  few  of  the  observations 
wiiich  might  otherwise  have  been  expected  from  a  dying 
iChristian  philosopher  could  be  recorded.  Yet,  amid  the  wan- 
iderings  of  his  mind,  the  kindness  of  his  disposition  frequently 
discovered  itself  in  his  solicitude  for  others,  especially  for  the 
comfort  of  those  who  were  attending  him.  When  he  perceived 
their  anxiety  on  his  account,  he  would  make  an  effort  to 
T2 


222 


LIFE  OF  SAMUEL  DREW. 


cheer  them,  by  alluding  to  the  mercy  and  goodness  of  God  in 
surrounding  him  with  so  many  comlorts  and  kind  friends ;  and 
more  than  once  lie  reminded  them  liiat  he  always  liked  to  see 
smiling  faces.  Throughout  his  sickness  he  frequently  expressed 
his  gratitude  to  God  in  short  ejaculations.  "  Bless  the  Lord 
for  this" — "  Thank  God  for  all  his  mercies" — "  Bless  the  Lord, 
O  my  soul," — were  the  words  often  uttered  by  him;  and  at 
other  times  he  was  evidently  engaged  in  prayer. 

After  the  performance  of  family  worship,  in  which  his  son 
had  ofliciated,  a  few  mornings  before  his  leaving  London,  Mr. 
Drew  observed,  with  much  feeling,  "  This  is  the  second  time  I 
have  been  dismissed  from  my  oflice,  and  God  only  knows 
whether  1  shall  ever  resume  it."  On  his  journey  he  frequently 
remarked  when  taking  nourishment,  "What  a  mercy  it  is  my 
appetite  does  not  go  from  this  food !  If  it  were  to  become 
distasteful,  I  know  of  nothing  on  which  1  could  subsist.  Thank 
the  Lord  for  this  and  every  other  mercy  vouchsafed  to  a  sinner 
like  me."  On  two  or  three  occasions  during  his  sickness,  and 
once  especially,  when,  on  his  journey,  his  head  was  supported 
by  one  of  his  children,  he  repeated,  with  exquisite  pathos,  the 
beautiful  lines  of  Gray — 

"  On  some  fond  breast  the  parting  soul  relies  : 
Some  pious  drops  the  closing  eje  requires." 

When,  on  his  arrival  at  Helston,  he  found  himself  so  little 
affected  by  travelling,  his  persuasion  was  that  he  should  be 
restored  ;  but  this  was  soon  followed  by  a  conviction  that  the 
time  of  his  departure  was  at  hand.  In  bed  he  commonly  took 
food  or  medicine  while  resting  on  one  elbow.  This  he  called 
his  prop.  He  said  one  day  to  his  attendant,  when  about  to  lie 
down,  after  taking  something,  "  Well,  I  suppose  I  must  remove 
the  prop.  Ah  !  very  soon  all  props  will  be  taken  away,  and  I 
shall  drop  into  the  grave." 

Next  to  seeing  his  children,  he  felt  anxious  for  the  presence 
of  his  sister.  "  She  bore  with  me,"  he  said,  "  the  burden  and 
heat  of  the  day,  and  I  must  not  leave  her  without  some  token 
of  my  gratitude  and  love.  She  must  know,  after  he  is  gone, 
how  much  her  brother  felt  for  her  welfare."  She  was  an  in- 
valid, and  had  to  travel  nearly  forty  miles ;  but  she  suffered  no 
inconvenience  from  the  journey,  and  had  the  satisfaction  off 
soothing,  by  her  presence,  her  brother's  dying  hours. 

On  the  Monday  preceding  his  death,  he  said  to  his  eldest 
son,  who  had  been  unavoidably  absent  from  him  a  few  days, 
"  Do  you  observe  any  difference  in  me  now,  and  when  you  were 


HIS  LAST  DAYS. 


223 


last  with  me  ?"  The  reply  was,  "  Yes,  dear  father,  you  are 
certainly  weaker ;  for  several  things  which  you  could  then  do 
for  yourself,  you  now  cannot." — "  Ah !"  said  he,  "  these  are 
some  of  the  indications  that  my  race  is  nearly  run." — "And 
you  have  a  good  hope,  I  trust,  my  dear  father,  that  when  your 
course  is  finished,  you  will  receive  a  crown  of  righteousness." 
— "  Yes,"  he  replied,  with  great  deliberation,  and  after  a  long 
pause;  "I  have  the  fullest  and  ihe  most  unshaken  confidence 
in  the  mercy  of  God,  through  our  Lord  Jesus  Christ." 

On  the  Monday  night,  awaking  from  sleep,  he  exclaimed, 
"  O  glorious  sunshine  !  yes !  blessed  be  God,  I  shall  enter  in." 
At  one  time  his  expressions  indicated  that  a  transient  cloud  had 
obscured  his  spiritual  vision.  His  words  were,  "  Will  the  Lord 
leave  my  soul  in  darkness  ?  No  :  he  will  not.  When  the  door 
is  opened,  I  shall  enter  in.    Yes,  I  shall." 

One  morning  he  said  to  the  nurse,  a  pious  woman,  "  Well, 
we  have  had  a  comfortable  night,  blest  with  artificial  light, — 
and  with  the  glorious  light  of  heaven."  At  another  time  he 
said  to  her,  "  Wiien  I  was  last  in  Helston,  I  could  see  from  the 
bed-room  window  of  my  son's  house  my  dear  wife's  grave  ;  and 
there  seemed  to  be  a  voice  calling  to  me,  '  Come  away For 
the  last  three  months  1  have  felt  disposed  to  say,  I  come — I 
shall  be  with  you  soon."* 

On  the  Wednesday  before  his  decease,  Mr.  Read,  his  son- 
in-law,  going  to  his  bed-side,  Mr.  Drew  said,  "  Here  1  am  still." 
— "  Yes,  sir,  but  a  prisoner  of  hope,  I  trust." — "  Yes,"  was  the 
reply. 

On  Thursday  Mrs.  Read  said  to  her  father,  "  I  am  writing 
to  Mary;  have  you  any  thing  to  say  to  her?" — "Yes;  give 
my  best  love  to  her,  and  tell  her  I  am  lying  here  with  a  gloomy 
aspect,  but  a  smiling  countenance." — "  Looking  forward,"  said 
Mrs.  Read,  "  to  a  better  country  ?" — "  Oh,  yes,"  he  replied, 
"  you  may  say  that  with  the  greatest  confidence." 

On  Thursday  night  he  seemed  to  have  a  premonition  of  his 
approaching  death,  which  led  him  to  say  to  the  nurse,  "  Thank 
God,  to-morrow  I  shall  join  the  glorious  company  above." 

About  noon  on  Friday,  March  29tli,  Mr.  Read,  wishing  to 
learn  the  state  of  Mr.  Drew's  mind  at  that  time,  waited  for  a 
moment  of  returning  consciousness,  and  then  said,  "  My  dear 
pir,  to-day,  I  trust,  you  will  be  with  the  Lord  Jesus." — "  Yes, 

His  youngest  daughter,  who  was  his  sole  companion  after  Mrs.  Drew's 
death,  says,  "  My  father  used  daily  to  unhang  my  mother's  portrait,  and 
kiss  it,  sometimes  saying,  '  I  come — I  shall  be  with  you  soon,'  but  at 
these  seasons  I  never  fully  understood  his  meaning." 


224 


LIFE  OF  SAMUEL  DREW. 


my  good  sir,  I  trust  I  shall,"  was  the  reply.  These  were 
almost  the  last  coherent  words  he  uttered. 

For  some  hours  before  his  death  he  sank  into  a  state  of 
unconsciousness;  his  breathing  became  fainter  and  fainter; 
until,  just  at  eight  o'clock  that  evening,  respiration  ceased,  and, 
without  pain  or  struggle,  "the  spirit  returned  to  God  who 
gave  it." 

In  the  gloomy  uncertainty  of  skepticism,  or  the  chilling  an- 
ticipations of  infidelity,  what  can  be  found  to  parallel  the  hopes 
and  consolations  of  the  dying  follower  of  Christ?  Knowing 
in  whom  he  has  believed,  he  looks  beyond  the  sinkings  of 
nature  and  the  darkness  of  the  tomb ;  and,  while  passing 
through  "  the  valley  of  the  shadow  of  death,"  his  path  is  irra- 
diated by  the  distant  rays  of  celestial  glory.  Even  in  circum- 
stances which  preclude  the  "  full  assurance  of  faith,"  comfort  is 
administered,  and  every  fearful  apprehension  removed.  And 
were  it  possible, — nay,  were  it  certain,  that  the  Christian's 
hopes  of  eternal  happiness  would  prove  delusive,  with  perfect 
propriety  might  he  propose  the  interrogation — 

"  What  truth  on  earth  so  precious  as  the  lie  1" 

On  the  Thursday  after  Mr.  Drew's  death,  his  body  was 
interred,  agreeably  to  his  long-expressed  wish,  beside  that  of 
his  much-loved  wife.  Their  tomb  bears  the  following  inscrip- 
tion : — 

Beneath  this  Stone 
repose 
the  Mortal  Remains  of 

SAMUEL  DREW,  A.M., 

of  St.  Austell 
(Author  of  several  esteemed  Metaphysical  Treatises), 
Who, 

unJaunted  by  Difficulties, 
persevered  in  the  pursuit  of  Knowledge, 
and  raised  himself  from  an  humble  Station 
to  Literary  Eminence. 

Possessing,  J 

with  lofty  Intellect,  I 

the  feelings  of  a  Philanthropist,  ■ 

and  the  mild  graces  of  a  Christian,  I 

he  lived  ' 
equally  beloved  and  admired  ; 


INTERESTING  COMMUNICATION. 


225 


and, 

in  steadfast  hope  of  a  blissful  Immortality, 
through  the  merits  of  his  Saviour, 
he  died  in  this  town, 
deeply  lamented, 
March  29th,  1833,  aged  68  years. 

This  Stone  also  covers 
the  Relics  of  his  beloved  wife  Honour, 
who,  after  a  short  illness, 
was  removed  to  a  happier  world, 
Aug.  19th,  1828,  aged  57. 

"  So  glides  the  stream  of  human  life  away." 

In  the  Wesleyan  chapel,  St.  Austell,  on  Sunday,  April  7th, 
the  Rev.  George  Browne  Macdonald,  from  Bristol,  then  on  a 
missionary  deputation  to  Cornwall,  spoke  of  Mr.  Drew's  de- 
cease to  a  large  and  deeply  affected  congregation,  from  Psalm 
Ixxiii.  25 — "  Whom  have  1  in  heaven  but  Thee  ?  and  there  is 
none  upon  earth  I  desire  besides  Thee.  My  flesh  and  my 
heart  faileth  ;  but  God  is  the  strength  of  my  heart  and  my  por- 
tion for  ever."  On  the  following  Sunday  a  funeral  discourse 
was  delivered,  by  the  Rev.  James  Jones,  to  a  crowded  audience, 
in  the  Wesleyan  chapel,  Helston,  from  Rev.  xiv.  13 — "And  I 
heard  a  voice  from  heaven,  saying  unto  me.  Write,  Blessed  are 
the  dead  which  die  in  the  Lord  from  henceforth :  Yea,  saith 
the  Spirit,  that  they  may  rest  from  their  labours ;  and  their 
works  do  follow  them."  In  other  chapels  in  Cornwall,  Mr- 
Drew's  death  was  noticed  from  the  pulpit. 

The  following  communications,  from  two  of  Mr.  Drew's  inti- 
mate female  friends,  who  witnessed  his  rapid  decline,  and  mani- 
fested an  almost  filial  solicitude  for  his  welfare,  will  probably 
be  read  with  much  interest. 

One  of  these  ladies,  whose  kind  sympathies  and  daily  atten- 
tions were  deeply  felt  by  him  upon  whom  they  were  bestowed, 
writes  thus,  on  receiving  the  intelligence  of  his  death  : — 

'  Another  honoured  and  revered  name  is  added  to  the  list  of 
those  for  whom  we  deeply  mourn,  and  whose  remembrance  we 
i cherish  with  the  highest  veneration: — Adam  Clarke!  Richard 
tWatson  !  Samuel  Drew ! — names  at  which  our  hearts  have 
[often  beat  with  exultation  and  love,  now  almost  suddenly  gath- 
ered from  among  us,  and  numbered  with  the  silent  dead  !  But, 
blessed  be  our  and  their  God,  we  have  '  a  sure  and  certain  hope 
of  tlieir  resurrection  to  eternal  life.'    'These  all  died  in  the 


226 


LIFE  OF  SAMUEL  DKEW. 


faith,  which  whosoever  hath,  though  he  were  dead  yet  shall  he 
live.' 

"  We  consider  it  no  common  privilege  to  have  known  Mr. 
Drew,  and  particularly  to  have  had  more  than  usual  intercourse 
with  him  lately  ;  though,  during  that  time,  we  had  the  pain  to 
witness  the  almost  daily  increase  of  bodily  weakness  and  men- 
tal decay.  How  rapidly  was  the  change  effected,  in  bringing 
his  active  and  vigorous  frame  into  the  dust  of  death! 

"  I  spent  the  evening  of  the  8th  of  January  in  his  company, 
when  to  me  he  appeared  in  his  usual  health,  and  conversed 
with  all  his  usual  animation  ;  though  I  remember  lie  com- 
plained of  a  cough,  which  deprived  him  of  s-leep  occasionally. 
On  the  11th  of  February  I  heard  he  was  very  unwell,  and  sent 
to  beg  him  to  dine  with  us,  as  being  nearerhisofficethan  King's 
Cross — not  in  the  least  anticipating  the  shock  1  received,  on  his 
entering  the  room,  at  the  great  and  sudden  alteration  wliich  had 
taken  place.  I  did  not,  however,  remark  it  to  him,  and  was 
pleased  to  see  that  he  ate  his  dinner  with  tolerable  appetite, 
and  afterward  appeared  rather  better.  From  this  time  he  dined 
with  us  daily  for  three  weeks,  varying  considerably  in  his  ap- 
petite, strength,  and  spirits  ;  anticipating  his  stay  in  liondon  till 
July,  August,  or  September,  and  never  appearing  to  relinquish 
this  intention,  till  the  last  few  days  of  the  last  week.  He  then 
became  convinced  that  his  strength  was  unequal  to  the  continu- 
ance of  his  literary  labours,  and  expressed  his  determination 
to  close  his  engagements  in  London,  and  go  to  Cornwall  in 
April  or  May.  Alas  !  alas  !  God  granted  him  the  desire  of  his 
heart,  to  breathe  once  more  his  native  air,  and  see  his  children 
and  his  children's  children  ;  but,  ere  April  bloomed,  surrounded 
by  those  he  loved,  and  those  that  loved  and  honoured  him,  he 
closed  his  eyes  on  earth  and  all  its  scenes,  to  become  an  in- 
habitant of  another  world. 

"  When  Mr.  Drew  first  became  a  daily  visiter  to  us,  he  fre- 
quently spoke  of  the  restless  and  sleepless  nights  he  passed  ; 
remarking,  that  when  he  entered  his  bedroom,  he  no  longer 
looked  upon  his  bed  with  pleasure  as  the  couch  of  repose,  but 
with  a  sigh,  as  a  prison  for  a  given  number  of  hours.  Shortly 
after  this  sleep  was  mercifully  restored  to  him,  for  which  he 
expressed  much  gratitude  ;  often  saying,  '  I  have  brave  nights 
now — yes,  indeed  I  have  :  I  ought  to  be  better,  and  I  think  I 
am  — I  have  certainly  more  muscular  energy,  but  have  an  unac- 
countable indisposition  to  work  :  it  is  quite  a  burden  to  me.  I 
cannot  rouse  myself  to  it.  I  must  be  growing  idle.'  We  of- 
fered to  assist  him  in  copying,  &c.    He  thanked  us,  saying 


ZNTERESTING  COMMUNICATION. 


227 


his  daughter  did  a  great  deal  of  writing  for  him.  She  and  her 
husband  helped  him  very  much.  Mr.  W.  Tagg  was  not  only 
willing  but  able  to  help  him,  and  went  frequently  to  the  office, 
and  rendered  him  that  assistance  no  one  else  could. 

"  It  was  at  this  time  he  said  to  me  one  day,  '  Mrs.  Ince,  about 
a  fortnight  ago,  in  one  of  those  long,  long  nights,  when  I  used 
to  count  the  hours,  and  hear  the  clock  strike  one,  two,  three, 
four,  five,  six, — I  began  to  examine  myself,  and  asked  myself, 
"  Weil,  now,  suppose  you  should  die,  what  have  you  in  prospect 
in  a  future  state  ?  Are  you  depending  upon  any  thing  you  have 
done,  or  any  thing  you  are,  for  acceptance  with  God  ?  Are  you 
trusting  to  any  thing,  or  have  you  any  other  hope  than  the  infi- 
nite merit  of  the  sacrifice  of  Christ?"  I  looked  inward  upon 
myself, — I  looked  all  around, — I  saw  and  felt  that  I  had  no 
other.  Then  I  looked  up  to  God.  I  cast  myself  on  the  Lord 
Jesus  Christ.  All  was  clear — there  was  no  cloud.  I  felt  all 
was  right.  It  appeared  as  though  heaven  were  opened,  and  I 
had  communion  with  God  and  with  Christ.  Then  it  seemed 
as  if  the  curtain  dropped  between  ;  and  so  it  has  been  ever  since. 
I  have  never  been  able  to  realize  the  joy  I  felt  then,  in  prospect 
of  making  my  escape  from  earth,  and  being  with  God  ;  but  I 
felt  that  I  had  cast  anchor  within  the  vail.  And  so  T  have ;  I 
still  feel  that.'  This  was  the  only  time  in  which  Mr.  Drew 
spoke  of  his  personal  religious  experience. 

"  In  his  general  conversation  with  us,  he  dwelt  much  on  his 
removal  to  Cornwall,  and  the  prospect  of  his  recovery  there  ; 
while,  at  the  same  time,  his  mind  seemed  to  be  impressed  with 
the  probability  that  his  death  was  not  far  distant.  This  I  judge 
from  the  manner  in  which  he  used  to  break  forth  in  sudden 
ejaculations  of  prayer,  and  frequently  repeat  these  verses  : — 

'  There  is  a  land  of  pure  delight 
Where  saints  immortal  reign  ; 
Infinite  day  excludes  the  night, 
And  pleasures  l)anish  pain. 

There  I  shall  see  his  face, 

And  never,  never  sin  ; 

There,  from  the  rivers  of  his  grace, 

Drink  endless  pleasures  in. 

Far  from  a  world  of  grief  and  sin, 
With  God  eternally  shut  in  !' 

"  When  Mr.  D.  gave  me  an  account  of  Dr.  Clarke's  death, 
he  closed  the  relation  with  these  words  :— 


228 


LIFE  OF  SAMUEL  DREW. 


'  Nor  will  I  mourn  his  loss,  so  soon  to  follow  !' 

"  One  day  in  the  last  week  he  was  with  ns,  he  entered  the 
house  repeating  these  lines  in  Gray's  elegy : — 

'  The  breezy  call  of  incense-breathing  morn, 
The  swallow  twittering  from  the  clay-built  shed. 
The  cock's  shrill  clarion,  and  the  echoing  horn, 
No  more  shall  rouse  them  from  their  lowly  bed.' 

"  We  were  much  affected  at  the  time,  thinking  how  soon  they 
might  be  applicable  to  himself.  At  this  period,  he  would  often 
rouse  up  from  dozing  in  an  easy-chair,  in  which  he  reclined 
after  ditmer,  exclaiming,  '  The  fountains  of  the  great  deep  are 
broken  vp.^  They  were  indeed  !  and  he  has  crossed  the  flood  ! 
His  enlarged  and  redeemed  spirit,  no  longer  confined  to  a  house 
of  clay,  is  now  an  inhabitant  of  '  those  regions  where  infirmity 
cannot  enter,  and  where  the  sunshine  of  knowledge  suffers 
neither  diminution  nor  eclipse.' 

"Hannah  G.  Inge. 

"  London,  April  2,  1833." 

For  the  particulars  which  follow,  the  reader  and  the  biogra- 
pher are  indebted  to  a  lady  whose  name  has  already  appeared 
in  these  pages. 

"  It  has  often  been  remarked,  that  '  when  the  mind  feels  the 
most  intensely,  it  retains  the  least  power  to  express  the  depth 
of  its  feelings. '  The  truth  of  this  observation  I  feel,  in  refer- 
ence to  imbodying  my  recollections  of  my  esteemed  friend 
Mr.  Samuel  Drew.  That  for  many  years  I  enjoyed  his  friend- 
ship and  affectionate  regard  is  one  of  my  highest  honours, 
and  its  influence  has  been  one  of  my  greatest  advantnges. 
From  my  youth  up,  I  had  heard  his  name  mentioned  by  Dr. 
Adam  Clarke  in  terms  of  great  regard  and  respect,  and  my 
imagination  had  figured  to  itself  '  a  local  habitation'  for  the 
'name.' 

"In  the  year  1815  T  saw  Mr.  Drew  for  the  first  time.  Some 
business  had  called  him  to  London,  and  he  soon  found  out  the 
residence  of  his  old  friend  Dr.  A.  Clarke.  On  entering  theJ 
room,  where  I  chanced  to  be  silling,  learning  a  lesson  I  believe,] 
he  spoke  to  the  servant  in  a  tone,  and  with  a  manner,  so  pecu-I 
liar,  '  Tell  Dr.  Clarke  a  person  desires  to  see  him,'  that  I  could 
not  help  Idoking  up,  and  contrasting  his  manner  and  tone  with 
the  tail  thin  figure  which  immediately  sat  down,  covering  his 


INTERESTING  COaLJtUNICATION. 


229 


face  with  his  hand.  Till  my  father  entered  the  room,  I  rudely 
continued  my  task. ;  when  his  exclamation  of  surprise  and  de- 
light at  seeing  the  still  nameless  person  before  me  cast  my  mind 
into  great  perplexity  :  nor  was  it  relieved  by  my  father's  hur- 
ried questions  of  '  How  came  you  to  London  ? — What  has 
brought  you  here? — Why,  man,  this  must  be  the  first  time  in 
your  life  that  you  have  ever  been  out  of  your  own  county. — 
Why  did  you  not  send  up  your  name  ? — How  are  the  children, 
and  how  have  you  left  my  good  friend  Mrs.  Drew  V  The 
mental  perplexity  was  at  this  moment  relieved,  and  instinctively 
I  arose  from  my  seat,  and  stood  consciously  ashamed  before 
an  individual  whose  talents  I  revered,  and  to  whom,  in  igno- 
rance, I  had  evinced  disrespect.  It  was  a  lesson  never  for- 
gotten. 

"  The  death  of  Dr.  Clarke  seemed  to  astound  and  overpower 
Mr.  Drew  ;  and  it  was  remarked,  as  he  was  pacing  backwards 
and  forwards,  waiting  in  the  City-road  burial-ground  for  the 
arrival  of  the  remains  of  his  old  friend,  that  he  appeared  des- 
olate with  grief,  and  almost  prostrated  in  bodily  strength,  as 
well  as  in  spirit,  by  the  affectionate  interest  he  took  in  the  mel- 
ancholy event.  The  first  time  I  saw  him  after  this  painful  be- 
reavement, I  marked  the  change,  and  felt  assured  that  the  arrow 
which  had  pierced  my  honoured  father's  heart  had  nearly  reached 
his  also.  He  was  himself  moved  to  tears  at  seeing  me,  and, 
taking  boXh  my  hands  in  iiis,  and  looking  most  affectionately  at 
me,  he  said,  '  It  is  God,  my  dear  friend,  who  has  aiHicted, 
and  He  will  he;il :  I  can  say  nothing  to  comfort  you  ;  but  the 
stroke  shall  not  be  heavier  than  He  will  enable  you  to  bear  :  I 
know  your  loss  can  never  be  supplied  ;  but  trust  in  the  God  of 
your  mercies,  and  through  His  strength  your  spirit  shall  be  up- 
held. I  give  you  my  blessing :  it  is  all  I  have  to  bestow. 
May  the  God  of  your  father  be  your  God  and  Father,  and  may 
He  preserve  your  husband  and  your  children  through  the  jour- 
ney of  tliis  lii'e,  that  we  may  all  meet  in  heaven  at  last  for 
Christ's  sake.' 

"  Upon  my  revered  mother's  coming  to  town,  Mr.  Drew  hav- 
ing expressed  a  desire  to  see  her,  and  my  mother  being  solicit- 
ous of  seeing  him,  I  wrote,  entreati'iig  him  to  come  and  spend 
the  following  Sabbath  with  us,  which  was  his  birth-day,  March 
3d,  1833.  He  took  a  stage-coach  from  his  own  door  to  ours  ; 
but  oh  !  what  a  still  greater  change  had  the  few  last  weeks 
wrougiu  !  his  head  was  depressed,  his  step  exceedingly  infirm, 
and  he  was  much  exhausted  with  the  fatigue  of  the  ride.  When 
a  little  recovered  he  spoke  to  my  beloved  mother  on  the  subject 
U 


230 


LIFE  OF  SAMUEL  DEEW. 


of  her  loss,  and  the  probability  that  he  should  not  himself  long 
survive  his  friend  Dr.  Clarke,  on  whose  character  and  talents 
he  frequently  expatiated  in  the  course  of  the  day,  and  then 
would  again  relapse  into  silence ;  or,  at  other  times,  repeat 
verses  of  hymns,  texts  of  Scripture,  or  ejaculatory  prayers. 
On  placing  my  infant  in  his  arms,  for  his  blessing,  he  said, 
'  God  bless  you,  little  stranger !  You  are  just  come  into  life, 
— I  am  just  going  out  of  it.  My  life's  journey  has  been  a  long, 
but,  upon  the  whole,  not  a  hard  one:  —  may  yours  be  a  safe 
one,  vvhether  it  be  long  or  short.' 

"  Sometimes  the  scenes  of  Mr.  Drew's  youth  would  appear 
to  be  imaged  to  his  mind ;  and  he  would  tell  of  the  achieve- 
ments of  his  young  life  and  vigour,  and  add,  how  earnestly  he 
longed  to  breathe  his  last  breath  where  he  had  breathed  his 
first,  and  to  lay  his  bones  beside  those  of  his  dear  wife's ;  and 
then,  looking  down  upon  himself,  he  subjoined,  '  And  I  shall 
have  little  but  bones  to  leave,  for  my  flesh  is  nearly  all  gone.' 

"  On  observing  me  distressed,  he  said,  '  Do  not  grieve  for 
me,  my  dear  friend :  I  suffer  no  pain  ;  'tis  mere  debility.  I  may 
rally  when  I  get  to  my  native  air  ;  but  God  does  all  things 
well.'  Then,  relapsing  into  thoughtfulness,  a  mournful  smile 
settled  itself  upon  his  lace,  as,  taking  my  hand,  he  said,  '  Yes, 
my  friend,  thus  it  is, 

'  Down  Marlborough's  cheeks  the  tears  of  dotage  flow.'  ' 

In  the  afternoon  he  took  a  little  sleep  on  the  sofa,  and  awoke 
considerably  refreshed,  and  conversed  freely  on  different  sub- 
jects, when,  at  seven  o'clock,  the  stage  called  again  and  bore 
him  away,  and  I  saw  his  face  no  more  !  And  in  him  I  have  lost 
one  of  my  earliest,  one  of  my  best,  one  of  my  most  esteemed 
friends  ;  and  more  especially  after  I  had  lost  my  own  honoured 
parent,  Mr.  Drew  was  one  whom  I  regarded  almost  as  a  second 
father,  lie  was  ever  unvarying  in  iiis  friendship,  and  possessed 
a  benevolence  and  beneficence  of  character  which  but  few 
equal :  he  was  extremely  social  in  his  disposition  and  habits  ; 
always  instructive  and  interesting  in  his  conversation  ;  and  re- 
markal)le  for  the  amiability  and  simplicity  of  his  manners. 
None  could  know  him  witiiout  esteeming  as  well  as  respecting, 
him,  and  in  every  way  profiting  by  his  society.  He  is  now! 
gone  where  truth  exists  without  shadows,  and  all  is  for  eve« 
'  light  in  His  light.'  I 
"  Mary  Ann  Smith.  ' 

"  Stoke-Newington,  May,  1833." 

The  period  of  Mr.  Drew's  conversion  to  God,  under  the 


TRIBUTB  OF  HIS  TOWNSMEN. 


231 


ministry  of  Dr.  Adam  Clarke,  and  his  connection  with  tlie  Me- 
thodist society,  is  recorded  on  a  plain  marble,  in  the  Wesleyan 
chapel  at  St.  Austell.  The  inhabitants  of  the  town  of  his 
nativity  have  given  expression  to  their  feelings  of  affectionate 
remembrance,  by  placing  in  the  parish  church  a  very  handsome 
tablet,  bearing  this  inscription  :— 

TO  THE  MEMORY  OF 

SAMUEL  DREW, 

A  NATIVE  OF  THIS  PAKISH, 
WHOSE  TALENTS  AS  A  METAPHYSICAL  WlilTER, 
UNAIDED  BY  EDUCATION, 
RAISED  HIM  FROM  OBSCURITY 
INTO   HONOURABLE  NOTICE, 
AND  WHOSE  VIRTUES  AS  A  CHRISTIAN 
WON   THE   ESTEEM  AAD  AFFECTION 
OF  jVLL   WHO   KNEW  HIM. 

HE   WAS  BORN  MARCH  3d,  176-5, 
LIVED  IN  ST.   AUSTELL  UNTIL  JANUARY,  1819, 
AND,  AFTER  AN  ABSENCE   OF  FOURTEEN  \EARS, 
DURING  WHICH   HE  CONDUCTED  A  LITERARY  .JOURNAL, 
HB  RETURNED   TO  END  HIS   DAYS   IN  HIS  NATIVE  COUNTY, 
AS  HE  HAD   LO^O  DESIRED, 
AND  DIED  AT  HELSTON,  .MARCH  29tH,  1833. 

TO   RECORD  THEIR  SENSE 
OF   HIS   LITERARY   MERIT  AND   MORAL  VVORTH, 
HIS  FELLOW-TOWNSMEN   AND  PARISHIONERS 
HAVE   ERECTED  THIS  TABLET. 


SECTION  XXVI, 

Mr.  Drew's  personal  appearance — His  domestic  habits — Training  of  his 
children — His  affability  and  readiness  to  instruct — Familiarity  in  cor- 
respondence— Singular  instance  of  monomania. 

The  leading  events  of  Mr.  Drew's  life  have  been  narrated 
in  nearly  chronological  order.  Other  particulars,  illustrative  of 
his  character  and  talents,  we  have  yet  to  notice.    To  these  a 


232 


LIFE  OF  SAMUEL  DREW. 


brief  description  of  his  personal  appearance  may  be  deemed 
an  appropriate  introduction. 

Slender  in  form,  with  a  head  remarkably  small,  his  stature 
exceeded  the  common  height.  In  its  repose,  his  dark,  expres- 
sive eye  indicated  a  placid  disposition,  and  a  mind  at  ease  ;  but 
frequently  might  it  be  seen  eillier  beaming  with  gratitude  to 
God  and  benevolence  to  man,  or  lit  up  with  the  brilliancy  of 
mental  conception.  A  playful  or  an  arch  smile  often  stole 
over  those  features  on  which  the  lines  of  thought  were  deeply 
indented.  His  voice,  neither  harsh  nor  melodious,  wa&  clear 
and  powerful ;  producing,  by  the  firmness  of  its  intonations,  a 
conviction  that  the  speaker  was  no  ordinary  man.  Without  ex- 
hibiting the  polish  of  gentility,  his  gait  and  gesture  were  not 
tmgraceful  ;  while  a  general  rapidity  of  motion  indicated  great 
physical  activity,  and  decision  of  purpose. 

"  The  fixed  glance  of  his  eye,"  a  gentleman  intimately  ac- 
quainted with  Mr.  D.  in  the  latter  years  of  his  life  remarks, 
"  was  particularly  searching.  When  1  first  became  knowm  to 
him,  I  used  involuntarily  to  shrink  from  it.  He  seemed  to  be 
searching  the  secrets  of  one's  soul ;  yet  it  was  a  glance  entirely 
destitute  of  fierceness."  Another  gentleman,  to  whom  he  was 
known  about  the  time  of  his  first  becoming  an  author,  observes 
to  him,  in  a  letter  dated  1802,  "  Your  restless  mind  abhors 
indolence,  as  men  too  frequently  abhor  exertion.  From  your 
very  make,  I  am  led  to  calculate  upon  some  future  enterprise ; 
and  be  that  what  it  may,  you  will  not  attempt  it  but  on  a  con- 
viction of  personal  adequacy." 

Whatever  change  his  features  may  have  sustained,  through 
advancing  age,  a  circumstance  related  by  him  a  few  weeks  be- 
fore his  decease  shows,  that,  in  thcir  general  expression,  they 
must  have  continued  from  his  early  manhood  with  little  alteration. 
Riding  to  his  office,  as  he  was  latterly  accustomed,  he  was 
asked  by  a  person  who  sat  opposite  to  him  in  the  vehicle,  if 
he  were  not  called  Drew  ;  and,  on  being  answered  in  the 
affirmative,  the  gentleman  remarked,  "  You  and  I,  sir,  were 
next-door  neighbours  at  Crafthole." — "  How  long  is  h,  sir, 
since  you  Lived  there  ?"  inquired  Mr.  D. — "  About  fifty  years." 
— "And  have  you  not  seen  me  since?" — "Never,  sir,  till 
now,"  was  the  answer.  I 

In  describing  Mr.  Drew's  domestic  habits,  the  reader's  1 
attention  is  chiefly  directed  to  the  period  subsequent  to  1805 — ] 
the  year  in  which  he  relinquished  trade  for  literature,  and  was 
enabled  to  follow  a  systematic  distribution  of  his  time.  Previ- 
ously to  this,  the  frequent  and  irregular  calls  of  business  scarcely 


HIS  DOMESTIC  HABITS. 


233 


permitted  the  formation,  much  less  the  pursuit,  of  any  settled 
plan. 

That  time  might  be  "  taken  by  the  forelock,"  which  was  one 
of  his  favourite  phrases  and  rules  of  conduct,  the  family  clock 
was  kept  a  quarter  of  an  hour  in  advance  of  the  town  time. 
When  this  clock  struck  seven,  he  regularly  rose,  except  in  the 
depth  of  winter  ;  and,  if  the  weather  permitted,  walked  till  eight, 
the  family  breakfast  hour.  Sometimes  this  walk  would  be  soli- 
tary ;  but  usually  he  was  accompanied  by  his  children,  and 
their  young  companions.  To  join  his  morning  walk  was  es- 
teemed a  privilege.  Eve"  the  little  ones  were  eager  to  be  of 
the  party  ;  for  the  child  that  was  too  young  to  keep  pace  with 
the  others  generally  rode  upon  his  father's  back  or  shoulder. 
In  this  manner  Mr.  Drew's  first  morning  hour  was  spent,  not 
idly,  but  in  delivering  lectures  on  some  topic  which  he  endeav- 
oured to  render  interesting  to  his  young  disciples.  Grammar 
was  frequently  the  subject — at  other  times,  geograpliy — at 
others,  natural  science,  drawn  from  any  object  which  might 
happen  to  strike  his  or  the  children's  attention — and  sometimes, 
a  rehearsal  of  poetry.  In  fair  weather,  as  duly  as  the  clock 
struck  eight  might  he  be  seen  returning,  with  sometimes  half 
a  dozen  children  or  more  in  company  ;  and  the  appearance  of 
the  party  was  often  a  signal  to  the  neighbours  that  the  hour  of 
eight  had  arrived. 

From  eight  to  nine  was  occupied  by  the  morning  repast  and 
family  devotion.  At  this,  a  chapter  was  read  by  one  of  his 
children  ;  on  each  of  whom,  if  capable  of  reading,  the  duty  de- 
volTed  in  succession.  Unless  the  portion  of  Scripture  appeared 
to  require  explanation,  the  reading  was  followed  immediately 
by  an  extemporaneous  prayer,  in  which  Mr.  Drew  manifested 
the  liveliest  feeling  for  the  best  interests  of  his  dependants,  and 
all  whose  welfare  might,  at  the  time,  occupy  his  thoughts.  He 
then  entered  his  study,  wliich  he  never  designated  by  a  more 
classical  name  than  his  chamber,  and  generally  continued  there, 
with  the  interruption  only  of  dinner  and  tea,  until  seven  o'clock  ; 
nor  was  tliis  room  interdicted  to  his  children,  while  they  refrained 

I from  noise.  On  those  evenings  when  he  delivered  his  lectures  on 
grammar,  &c.,  he  left  his  study  at  an  earlier  hour — these  lec- 
tures occupying  his  time  from  six  to  eight. 
I  Independently  of  his  engagement  with  his  pupils,  he  regarded 
Bcven  as  his  hour  for  "  leaving  work."  A  portion  of  two  or 
three  evenings  weekly  was  devoted  to  the  public  duties  of  reli- 
gion : — his  other  vacant  hours  were  either  given  to  the  society 
of  his  friends — to  conversation  with  his  children — to  occasional 
U  2 


234 


LIFE  OF  SAMUEL  HREW. 


correspondence — to  visiting  the  sick — or  to  the  reading  of  such 
booiis  as  did  not  fall  within  the  course  of  his  ordinary  occu- 
pation. The  only  time  in  which  he  was  wholly  released  from 
mental  exercise  was  tlie  period  immediately  preceding  his  re- 
tiring to  rest.  After  supper  the  adults  of  the  family  were  sum- 
moned together  for  their  evening  devotion,  which  varied  from 
that  of  the  morning  in  the  omission  of  reading  the  Scriptures. 
Mr.  Drew  then  adjourned  to  the  kitchen,  to  smoke  his  pipe  of 
tobacco  ;  and  thus  terminated  the  daily  routine.* 

Though  a  smoker,  he  did  not  yield  himself  up  to  an  inordi- 
nate use  of  the  narcotic  leaf.  If  the  cloudy  wreath  sometimes 
curled  around  his  brow,  it  was  not  with  him,  as  with  Dr.  Parr, 
the  atmosphere  which  he  hourly  breathed.  Two  pipes  a  day — 
one  after  dinner  and  one  before  bed-time — were  the  usual  limits 
of  his  self-indulgence,  and  these  he  could  easily  dispense  with 
where  he  deemed  their  introduction  would  be  offensive.  The 
determined  hostility  of  his  friend  Dr.  Adam  Clarke  to  the  ordi- 
nary use  of  tobacco  he  very  well  knew,  and  when  at  his  house 
he  imposed  upon  himself  entire  abstinence.  On  one  occasion, 
the  doctor  said  to  him,  after  dinner,  "  Well,  friend  Drew,  do 
you  wish  for  a  pipe  ?" — "  Were  I  in  any  other  place,"  replied 
Mr.  Drew,  "  I  should  probably  answer.  Yes.'" — "  Oh  !"  said  the 
doctor,  "  if  you  desire  it,  you  shall  have  a  pipe  now,  on  the 
condition  of  your  going  outside  the  back  door  to  smoke : — 
within  my  house  no  such  unseemly  practice  is  allowed."  This 
accommodation  was  declined.  Others  who  knew  Mr.  Drew's 
predilection,  whenever  he  was  to  be  their  guest,  always  made 
due  provision  of  the  pipe  and  "  fragrant  weed  ;"  but  lie  would 
never  consent  to  use  them,  unless  permission  were  given  for  his 
retiring  to  the  kitchen  or  the  open  air,  as  the  temperature  and 
convenience  might  determine. 

So  fond  was  he  of  warmth,  that,  in  the  hottest  day  of  sum- 

*  A  young  Indy  with  wliom  Mr.  Drew  occasionally  corresponded  writes 
to  him  thus,  in  1809  : — "  I  am  much  pleased,  and  .sometimes  diverted,  to 
hear  pe()|)le  relate  some  anecdote  of  you.    How  they  obtain  their  intelli 
gence  Heaven  knows, — but  I  believe  they  sometimes  invent  it.    I  really 
think  some  imagine  that  you  neither  eat,  drink,  nor  sleep  as  other  peopl 
Assuring  some  oi'  my  acquaintances  that  I  saw  you  at  your  door  as 
rode  through  St.  Austell,  I  was  asked  a  thousand  questions  about  you 
appearance  ;  and  I  confounded  them  at  once,  by  telling  them  that  I  h 
conversed  with  you.     'How  did  you  get  introduced?'  they  inquire 
•Nonsense,' said  I — 'introduced  ! — It  is  customary  for  the  great  peopl 
that  pass  through  St.  Austell  to  call  on  Mr.  Drew,  and  of  course  I  did 
So  they  stared  at  my  impudence,  as  they  considered  it ;  and  1  laughed 
their  folly." 


HI3  rOMESTlC  HABITS. 


23S 


mer,  he  would  sit  by  the  fire  while  smoking,  unless  he  could, 
as  a  substitute,  bask  in  the  sun.  "  I  hear  people  complain  of  the 
heat,"  he  has  said  ;  "  but  for  my  part,  I  never  found  a  summer's 
day  in  which  the  thermometer  might  not  have  risen  several  de- 
grees without  subjecting  me  to  inconvenience." 

Not  Dr.  Clarke  himself  could  inveigh  in  stronger  terms 
against  the  "  abuse  of  tobacco"  than  Mr.  Drew,  although  accus- 
tomed to  its  daily  use.  He  might  have  seconded  the  observa- 
tion of  Mr.  Hall  on  the  doctor's  pamphlet — "  I  can't  refute  his 
arguments,  and  I  can't  give  up  smoking  ;"  but  the  latter  nega- 
tive lie  would  have  made  conditional  rather  than  absolute. 

One  evening,  in  1830,  in  a  friendly  party,  he  was  censuring, 
as  he  frequently  did,  in  no  very  gentle  terms,  this  "  expensive, 
idle,  dirty,  and  dissipated  habit,"  which  (turning  to  the  ladies), 
he  observed, 

"  banishes  for  hours 
The  sex  whose  presence  civilizes  ours." 

"  But  how  comes  it,  sir,"  inquired  one  of  the  company,  «« that 
you,  who  speak  so  much  against  smoking,  have  adopted  the 
filthy  practice,  as  you  term  it  ?" — "  If,  madam,  T  were  to  begin 
life  again,  I  would  not  take  it  up ;  but,  having  formed  the  habit 
of  smoking,  it  is  no  easy  matter  to  abstain.  However,  I  will 
tell  you  a  story  of  a  young  man  I  knew  many  years  ago,  and 
you  will  see  how  these  things  are  sometimes  begun."  He  then, 
as  a  third  person,  related  his  own  adventure  among  the  smug- 
glers, which  the  reader  will  tind  in  Section  VI.,  and  added,  "  The 
consequence  of  this  niglu's  exposure  was,  that  the  young  man 
had  a  wound  in  one  of  his  legs  nearly  three  years,  which 
nothing  could  cure.  An  acquaintance  of  his  recommended 
him  to  try  smoking  : — he  did  so,  and  the  wound  soon  healed  ; 
though  whether  from  that  or  another  cause  he  could  not  say. 
Be  this  as  it  may,  he  continued  smoking  as  an  idle  habit,  lived 
to  the  age  of  sixty-five,  is  now  alive  and  well,  and  is  here  to 
tell  you  the  tale." 

The  Sabbath  being  a  day  of  rest,  Mr.  Drew  did  not  take  his 
ordinary  morning  walk.  Seven  o'clock  was  the  hour  for  com- 
mencing the  services  of  the  day  in  the  Methodist  chapel,  by 
public  prayer,  and  thither  he  always  repaired.  At  the  family 
worship,  on  this  morning,  all  the  children  who  were  able 
read,  in  rotation,  and  in  a  similar  manner  they  were  expected  to 
read  after  dinner.  On  this  day,  too,  especially,  he  sought  op- 
portunities of  acquainting  his  children  with  the  precepts  and 


236 


LIFK  OF  SAMUEL  DREW. 


doctrines  of  Christianity.  These  he  seldom  communicated  in  a 
direct  manner,  lest  he  should  awaken  a  repugnance  to  religious 
instruction.  By  proposing  some  question  or  subject  for  consid- 
eration, he  endeavoured  to  elicit  inquiry,  and  to  make  them 
think  closely  and  seriously  about  a  matter  of  such  vital  impor- 
tance. Nor  was  this  method  peculiar  to  his  Sabbath  instruc- 
tion. The  subject  changed  with  the  day,  but  his  manner  of 
teaching  was  uniform.  He  adopted  no  particular  system  for 
the  mental  culture  of  his  children.  They  received  the  common 
school  education,  and  he  sometimes  inquired  into  their  profi- 
ciency,— taking  care  that  in  those  points  with  which  he  was 
himself  conversant  they  should  be  well  grounded,  and  able  to 
render  a  reason  at  each  progressive  step.  His  object  was,  not 
merely  to  store  the  memory  of  his  children,  or  of  other  young 
persons  who  wished  to  benefit  by  his  teaching,  but  to  lead  them 
to  tliink. 

During  Mr.  Drew's  residence  in  St.  Austell,  there  was  no 
forenoon  service  in  the  Methodist  chapel  there — this  being  com- 
menced at  the  urgent  recommendation  of  Dr.  Adam  Clarke, 
when  he  visited  Cornwall  in  1819.  The  Sabbath  forenoon  was 
therefore  Mr.  D.'s  chief  time  for  the  religious  instruction  of  his 
household,  and  for  his  own  preparation  for  the  pulpit.  He  never 
esteemed  himself  a  dissenter ;  and,  though  not  a  due  attendant, 
was  often  seen  at  the  parish  church.  Indeed,  it  used  to  be  a 
common  remark,  that  when  Mr.  Drew  had  to  preach  in  the 
afternoon  at  St.  Austell,  he  was  sure  to  be  at  church  in  the  morn- 
ing. His  sermons  being  too  original  and  unique  to  favour  the 
supposition  that  he  had  attended  to  collect  ideas,  or  to  furnish 
himself  from  the  armory  of  another,  it  is  probable  that,  in  the 
exercise  of  public  devotion,  he  sought  that  quickening  of  the 
spirit  with  which  he  desired  to  engage  in  his  own  ministerial 
work. 

It  has  been  already  intimated,  that  while  Mr.  D.  was  in 
trade,  the  kitchen  was  his  study,  and  his  wife's  bellows  his 
portable  deslc.  A  lady,  who  deliglited  greatly  in  his  conversation, 
says,  "  I  used  sometimes  to  go  into  his  house  of  an  evening,  to 
gossip  with  him ;  but  whenever  I  saw  the  bellows  on  his  knee, 
I  knew  it  was  time  to  retreat — there  was  no  more  talking  then. 
It  was  a  sure  sign  to  all  of  us  that  he  wanted  no  company." 
In  later  years  he  wrote  standing  at  a  high  desk,  only  sitting  to 
read ;  and  this  was  his  constant  habit  as  long  as  he  continued 
his  literary  labours. 

Adopting  as  a  maxim,  and  rule  of  conduct.  Pope's  couplet — 


HIS  DOMESTIC  HABITS. 


237 


"  Honour  and  shame  from  no  condLlion  rise : 
Act  well  your  part, — there  all  the  honour  lies," — 

frequently  after  he  had  attained  celebrity  as  an  author,  he  per- 
formed menial  offices,  the  propriety  of  which  may  be  thought 
questionable.  He  felt  no  scruple  either  at  going  into  the  street 
with  a  broom  and  wheelbarrow,  to  do  the  work  of  a  scavenger, 
as  far  as  his  premises  extended,  or,  with  the  assistance  of  his 
apprentices,  to  carry  into  the  cellar  his  winter  stock  of  coals, 
which  were  not  delivered  in  sacks,  but  tilted  from  the  cart  into 
the  road.  Some  one  intimating  to  him  that  he  was  thus  com- 
promising his  dignity,  he  replied,  "The  man  who  is  ashamed 
to  carry  in  his  coals  deserves  to  sit  all  the  winter  by  an  empty 
grate."  One  day,  after  using  the  broom,  he  came  into  his 
house  highly  amused,  saying,  "  I  have  learned  a  new  text.  Mr. 

 ,  who  passed  just  now-,  said,  'Well,  Mr.  Drew,  I  see  you 

are  fulfilling  that  passage  of  Scripture,  Let  every  man  sweep 
before  his  own  door  !'  " 

It  cannot  be  thought  that  this  was  a  mere  exhibition  of  assumed 
humility;  nor  was  it  a  practice  newly  adopted.  It  was  com- 
menced with  his  business,  and  it  had  become  habitual :  for,  be- 
ing "  full  of  wise  saws  and  modern  instances,"  he  used  frequently 
to  allege,  that  "  he  who  would  not  save  a  feather  would  never 
be  worth  a  goose."  Possibly  he  continued  his  former  habits  when 
his  circumstances  did  not  render  them  necessary,  to  check 
such  feelings  of  self-complacency  as  public  applause  might 
foster,  and  to  perpetuate  in  his  recollection  "  the  hole  of  the 
pit  whence  he  was  digged."  Nor  were  his  benevolent  feelings 
without  their  influence  on  these  occasions ;  though  in  later 
years  he  admitted  that  to  save  money  in  such  a  manner  for 
purposes  of  charity,  when,  by  furnishing  employment,  both 
giver  and  receiver  might  be  equally  benefited,  was  false  be- 
nevolence. 

In  matters  of  domestic  management  Mr.  Drew  rarely  inter- 
fered. He  used  jocosely  to  say,  "  I  endeavour  to  get  the 
money,  and  my  good  wife  manages  to  spend  it : — I  seldom  in- 
quire how.  She  gives  me  meat,  drink,  and  clothes  ;  and  what 
more  can  a  man  desire?"  On  one  occasion,  when  household 
economy  was  a  topic  of  conversation,  he  remarked,  "I  would 
recommend  the  men  to  leave  that  matter  entirely  to  their  wives, 
:who  understand  it  better.  When  I  was  first  married  I  used  to 
go  to  market;  but  having  proved  my  want  of  discernment  by  a 
purchase  in  which  I  thought  I  had  made  a  most  profitable  bar- 
gain, I  was  thenceforward  dismissed  from  office." 

An  instance  of  this  indirect  method  of  hinting  at  a  defect  in 


238 


LIFE   OF   SAMUEL  DKEW. 


domestic  arrangements  will  be  seen  in  the  following,  written 
with  a  pencil  on  the  back  of  a  letter,  and  designed  probably 
for  the  servant's  perusal : 

"  Amid  the  wonders  Islington  can  boast, 
That  which  must  puzzle  and  surprise  us  most, 
And  give  to  bold  credulity  a  shock. 
Is  Drew  at  breakfast  before  eight  o'clock  !" 

In  the  TRAINING  OF  HIS  CHILDREN,  though  he  did  not  at  all 
times  spare  the  rod,  he  seldom  resorted  to  it ;  knowing  that  its 
frequent  use  blunts  the  finer  feelings  and  sensibilities  of  our 
nature,  and  degrades  the  child  into  the  mere  animal.  His  re- 
luctance to  adopt  coercive  measures  may  be  inferred  from  the 
following  singular  and  amusing  agreement  with  one  of  his  boys, 
who  inherited  much  of  his  own  youthful  temper.  The  instru- 
ment was  found  among  his  papers,  formally  engrossed  on 
parchment,  and  attested  by  the  signatures  of  several  witnesses. 

"  I          Drew,  of  the  parish  of  St.  Austell,  in  the  county  of 

Cornwall,  do,  of  my  own  free  consent,  promise  unto  my  father, 
Samuel  Drew,  and  un'o  my  mother,  Honour  Drew,  and  the 
family,  that  I  will  endeavour  to  behave  in  a  much  better  manner 
in  future  than  I  have  behaved  during  the  last  year.  I  will  en- 
gage not  to  run  into  the  streets  when  they  forbid  me ;  nor  to 
wander  beyond  tlie  limits  which  they  shall  point  out.  When 
I  have  liberty  to  go  out,  I  will  endeavour  to  avoid  such  company 
as  they  dislike,  to  leave  off  speaking  bad  words,  and  to  keep 
my  clothes  as  clean  as  lean,  as  well  as  scrape  my  shoes  when- 
ever I  come  into  the  house.  I  also  promise  that  I  will  be  as 
peaceable  as  I  can,  when  I  am  at  home  ;  that  I  will  not  be 
noisy  or  troublesome  as  I  have  been,  nor  keep  my  tongue 
a-going  about  things  which  do  not  concern  me  ;  that  I  will  not 
leave  the  doors  open  when  I  pass  in  or  out,  nor  shut  them  in  a 
noisy  manner,  nor  go  up-stairs  with  my  dirty  shoes,  especially 
when  I  am  told  not  to  do  so.  I  also  promise  that  I  will  go 
quietly  to  bed  in  the  evenings,  when  I  am  desired,  without  being 
troublesome  to  tlie  person  who  may  put  me;  and  in  all  otiier 
things  show,  to  the  utmost  of  my  power,  that  a  reformation  has 
taken  place  in  my  behaviour.  In  consideration  of  the  above 
conditions  being  fulfilled,  it  is  promised,  on  the  part  of  Samuel 

Drew,  that  neither  he  nor  any  other  person  shall  beat  • 

Drew,  or  give  him  unpleasant  language,  but  treat  him  with  tender- 
ness and  love,  according  to  his  good  conduct.  And  it  is  further- 
more promised  unto  Drew,  that,  during  the  whole  time 

of  his  good  behaviour,  he  shall  receive  (besides  his  usual  pocket 


TRAINING  OF  HIS  CUILDREX. 


239 


money)  one  penny  weekly,  which,  wilh  any  other  money  that 
he  may  choose  to  bring,  shall  be  lodged  in  his  father's  hands, 
until  a  sum  be  saved  suflicient  to  buy  a  watch.  To  enter  the 
above  sums,  a  book  shall  be  kept  by  his  father,  in  which  they 

shall  be  regularly  inserted,  which  book    Drew  shall  see 

whenever  he  shall  so  request.  For  the  due  performance  of  the 
above  conditions,  we  have  hereunto  set  our  hands  and  seals 
this  first  day  of  January,  one  thousand  eight  hundred  and  four- 
teen, from  which  day  this  agreement  is  to  take  place. 

"  *  Drew, 

"  S.4MUEL  *  Drew, 
"  Honour  *  Drew. 

"  Signed,  sealed,  and  delivered 
(being first  duly  stamped)  in 
the  presence  of 

"  A.  B."  4*c.  dec 

Few  fathers  manifested  such  strong  paternal  attachment  ae 
Mr.  Drew.  His  children's  welfare  always  claimed  his  attention. 
Daily  and  hourly  th.eir  best  interests  were  the  object  of  his  so- 
licitude. There  was  no  austerity  in  his  manner,  tending  to 
repel  them  from  his  company.  On  the  contrary,  he  was  ever 
ready  to  listen  to  the  most  absurd  or  extravagant  theories 
which  they  might  hazard,  in  morality  or  religion ;  and,  instead 
of  checking  any  remark  because  it  might  savour  of  impiety,  he 
lieard  every  argument  they  could  adduce  in  favour  of  the  propo- 
sition, and  then,  by  reasoning  with  them,  endeavoured  to  ex- 
pose the  fallacy  of  their  opinions.  Thus  imperceptibly,  yet  in 
the  rhost  convincing  manner,  would  he  fortify  their  minds 
against  pernicious  doctrines,  and  confirm  their  belief  in  the 
most  important  truths.  The  confidence  of  his  elder  children 
he  thus  gained ;  and  the  allection  of  the  juniors  was  always 
bestowed  upon  a  parent  who  would  become  their  playmate,  and 
tell  them  stories  without  end.  Though  he  could  not  prevent 
their  mixing  with  others,  in  and  out  of  school-hours,  he  strove 
to  guard  them,  by  his  precepts,  against  evil  example.  "To 
keep  my  children  wholly  from  bad  as.sociates,"  he  has  said, 
"  iii  out  of  my  power.  I  can  only  endeavour  to  instil  good  princi- 
ples, show  them  a  good  example,  and  commend  them  in  prayer 
to  God." 

As  they  advanced  towards  maturity,  their  religious  culture 
became  a  more  especial  object  of  his  regard.  His  letters  to 
tiiem  were  fraught  with  the  most  valuable  and  affectionate  ad- 
vice ;  and  in  these  written  instructions,  the  fervent  spirit  of  the 


240 


LIFE  OF  SAMTIEL  DREW. 


Christian  and  love  of  tlie  parent  were  combined  with  his 
wonted  familiarity.  To  his  youngest  daughter,  who,  after  his 
removal  from  St.  Austell,  and  esjjccially  after  Mrs.  Drew's  de- 
cease, became  his  personal  charge,  he  was  accustomed  to  ad- 
dress, upon  her  birth-day,  a  few  admonitory  lines.  One  of 
these  addresses  we  insert,  not  as  a  specimen  of  poetry,  but  as 
a  proof  of  affection. 

"TO  MY  DAUGHTER  MARY,  ON  HER  SEVENTEENTH 
BIRTH-DAY. 

"Accept,  dear  Mary,  on  thy  natal  day. 

This  kind  expre.ssion  of  a  father's  love  : 
Warm  from  his  heart  it  flows,  without  decay, 
To  thee  in  deeds — in  prayer  to  God  above. 

Thy  childhood  past,  but  not  matured  in  years, 

Thy  parents  view  thee  in  a  path  of  strife, 
And  watch  those  steps  with  anxious  hojies  and  fears 

That  soon  will  stamp  thy  destiny  for  life. 

The  dangerous  ocean  which  thy  bark  must  sail 
Has  rocks  and  shoals  unseen,  or  found  too  late  ; 

And  those  who  venture  under  passion's  gale 
Will  suffer  shipwreck  on  the  shores  of  fate. 

Taught  from  thy  youth  those  templing  scenes  to  shun 
Where  serpents  lurk  beneath  delusive  flowers, 

Where  folly's  minions  dance  and  are  undone. 
By  fashion  led  to  dissipation's  bowers  ; — 

Revere  the  precepts  which  instruction  gives  : 

Experience,  reason,  urge  thee  to  be  wise. 
A  father's  voice  may  warn  while  yet  he  lives  ; 

O  may  Heaven's  counsel  lead  thee  when  he  dies  ! 

A  Povver  unseen  o'er  all  thy  steps  presides. 

To  guard  thy  feet  in  virtue's  sacr<;d  road. 
The  cross  atones — the  Saviour's  Spirit  guides 

From  vice  and  sorrow  to  the  throne  of  God. 


An  aged  vviilovv  sliould  thy  mother  prove, 

Who  nursed  and  cherished  thee  with  tender  care. 

Repay  that  kiniliiess  with  a  daughter's  love, 
And  in  thy  comforts  let  her  claim  a  share. 

Should  he  who  writes  prove  destitute,  forlorn, 

Wrinkled,  and  gray, — his  lingering  hours  beguile  : 

Age  and  decrepitude  O  do  not  scorn, 

But  cheer  his  evening  with  a  filial  smile. 


TRAINING  OF  HIS  CHILDREN. 


241 


Then,  when  thy  parents,  summoned  to  the  skies. 

No  more  admonish,  or  thy  actions  see, 
A  generation  yet  unborn  may  rise, 

To  pay  those  duties  rendered  now  by  thee. 

"  Samuel  Drkw. 

"Sept.  10,  1826." 

It  was  an  affecting  and  a  solemn  season,  when,  on  the  day 
of  his  wife's  funeral,  though  heart-broken  and  overwhelmed 
with  grief  at  his  sudden  bereavement,  he  feelingly  commended 
his  assembled  children,  one  by  one,  to  the  Divine  protection ; 
prayed  that  the  afflictive  dispensation  might  be  sanctified  to 
their  eternal  welfare;  and,  with  a  fond  father's  heart,  implored 
the  blessing  of  Heaven  on  them  and  all  iheir  concerns. 

We  have  no  wish  to  represent  Mr.  Drew  as  immaculate. 
In  attempting  a  faithful  moral  picture,  the  blemishes  should  be 
shown  as  well  as  the  beauties  ;  nor  does  his  character  require 
that  any  part  should  be  "  cast  discreetly  into  shade."  With 
the  sentiment  so  admirably  expressed  by  a  recent  writer,  we 
fully  accord — "  It  behooves  us,  with  Christian  discrimination,  to 
distinguish  between  grace  and  nature, — to  give  to  God  his  own 
glory,  and  refer  to  men  their  own  infirmities."*  But  so  few 
and  so  trivial,  in  the  eye  of  affection,  were  Mr.  l>.'s  defects, 
that  to  particularize  them  is  a  task  of  difficulty. 

Mr.  Drew  was  habitually  careful  of  the  feelings  of  others. 
On  noticing  a  display  of  unnecessary  rigour,  or  a  want  of  sym- 
pathy for  a  wounded  spirit,  he  has  often  quoted,  as  a  gentle 
rebuke,  that  fine  expression  of  Cowper, 

"  The  tear  that  is  wiped  with  a  little  address 
May  be  followed,  perhaps,  by  a  smile." 

Yet,  at  times,  when  his  own  children  were  in  fault,  his  reproofs 
were  very  severe.  Blended  with  his  prevailing  good-nature, 
there  was  a  considerable  proportion  of  natural  sarcastic  humour, 
which,  in  his  parental  censures,  he  was  not  always  careful  to 
repress.  It  was  never  unkindly  meant,  but  its  pungency  some- 
times inflicted  an  unintentional  wound. 

If  we  add  to  this,  that,  from  his  keen  perception  of  moral 
L order,  he  could  not  witness  the  most  trivial  deviation  without 
►"very  uncomfortable  sensations,  and  that  his  love  of  propriety 
[amounted  to  an  almost  morbid  feeling,  we  shall  have  enumer- 

*  Gregory's  Memoir  of  Robert  Hall. 


242 


LIFE  OF  SAMUEL  DREW. 


ated  the  imperfections  in  his  domestic  character.  In  every 
other  view,  we  believe,  his  excellences  were  conspicuous, 

"  And  even  his  failings  leaned  to  virtue's  side." 

A  gentleman  with  whom  he  was  in  constant  intercourse 
during  tlie  latter  period  of  his  life,  remarks,  "In  all  my  ac- 
quaintance vviih  Mr.  Drew  I  never  saw  any  thing  in  him  but 
what  was  calculated  to  excite  esteem  and  respect.  His  amia- 
ble disposition  was  never  overturned  by  peevishness  or  irrita- 
bility of  mind,  even  in  the  decline  of  his  years,  or  the  breaking 
up  of  his  constitution." 

Affability  and  readiness  to  teach  were  always  traits  in 
Mr.  Drew's  disposition.  "His  nature,"  as  a  lady  who  knew 
him  vvell  expresses  it,  "  was  a  coiiij)i)unci  of  kindness and 
he  was  the  beloved  Mentor  of  all  the  young  persons  of  his  ac- 
quaintance. Ever  familiar  and  accessible,  they  felt  no  scruple 
in  stating  to  him  their  difficulties,  or  in  making  him,  what  he 
was  always  ready  to  be,  their  confidential  and  friendly  adviser, 
l^'eelings  of  admiration  cotdd  not  be  repressed,  on  seeing  the 
timid  virgin  hanging  with  filial  confidence  upon  his  arm,  and 
drinking  in  knowledge  from  his  lips ;  or  the  stripling  listening 
to  the  intonations  of  liis  voice,  and  watching  every  significant 
gesture,  while  he,  wiili  the  most  affectionate  concern, 

"Allured  to  brighter  worlds,  and  led  the  way." 

"For  young  persons  Mr.  Drew  had  a  particular  regard,  and 
invariably  drew  them  around  him,  evincing  the  greatest  interest 
for  their  welfare.  He  knew  the  many  shoals  and  quicksands 
on  which,  without  guidance,  they  miglit  make  fatal  shipwreck; 
and,  wiiile  enforcing  the  importance  and  benefit  of  religion,  he 
added  to  it  tlie  diligent  employment  of  time.  .  'Youth,'  he  ob- 
served, 'is  the  period  in  which  to  lay  up  a  ricdi  store  of  inform- 
ation. It  will  |)rove  like  a  warehouse  full  of  var.ious  kinds 
of  timber,  all  of  which  will  be  essentially  useful  to  the  skilful 
workman,  when  he  shall  have  got  his  tools  about  him,  and 
learned  expertness  in  their  usr.  The  timber  he  will  then  find 
ready  to  shape  and  fashion  into  the  forms  suited  to  times  and 
circumstances.'  With  anecdotes  of  his  own  life  he  would  also 
occasionally  enliven  the  social  circle;  deducing  from  all,  reasons 
for  and  incentives  to  diligence."  Such  is  the  statement  of  a 
lady  who  had  often  listened  to  his  familiar  instructions. 


HIS   PERSONAt  CHARACTER. 


243 


There  was  a  pious  old  woman,  a  Methodist,  at  whose  house, 
on  the  outskirts  of  St.  Austell,  Mr.  Drew  used  frequently  to 
call  on  a  Sabbath  morning.  Here  he  often  met  with  young 
persons  belonging  to  the  same  religious  society,  who  came 
thither  for  serious  conversation.  With  these,  when  time  per- 
mitted, he  would  enter  into  a  discussion  of  such  religious  topics 
as  might  be  suggested,  answer  questions,  and  clear  up  diffi- 
culties. This  became  a  frequent  levee  of  Mr.  Drew's,  and  was 
sure  to  be  well  attended.  When  he  perceived  any  diffidence 
or  backwardness  among  his  young  friends,  in  proposing  to  him 
their  doubts,  he  urged  them  to  cast  asiile  all  such  needless  re- 
serve. "Questions,"  he  would  remark,  "are  the  keys  that 
unlock  the  treasures  of  knowledge.  It  is  better  to  admit  your 
ignorance  than  to  show  it.  The  candid  inquirer  is  always 
welcome  ;  and  don't  fear  hazarding  a  blunder  now  and  then. 
Remember  that  he  who  never  made  a  blunder  never  made  a 
discovery." 

An  acquaintance  wliich  Mr.  Drew  formed,  in  the  year  1809, 
with  a  young  lady,  who,  without  introduction,  sought  his  coun- 
sel, and  maintained  with  him  a  frequent  correspondence,  is 
another  instance  of  his  accessibility  and  readiness  to  impart 
instruction.  The  origin  of  their  intimacy  he  thus  explains  to 
the  lady's  brother  : — 

"  The  first  letter  I  received  from  your  sister  was  anonymous, 
— proposing  a  variety  of  abstruse  questions,  on  which  the 
writer  desired  me  to  give  my  opinion.  As  the  letter  contained 
an  expansion  of  mind  which  forcibly  struck  me,  1  felt  a  wish 
to  know  who  the  writer  was.  I  accordingly  wrote  a  short 
note,  acknowledging  the  receipt  of  the  letter  alluded  to  above, 
but  observed,  '  that  in  sending  it  without  a  name,  the  writer 
had  defeated  his  own  purpose,  by  betraying  that  want  of  confi- 
dence which  deprived  correspondence  of  its  basis.'  This  pro- 
duced from  your  sister  a  letter  written  in  her  own  name,  with 
this  intelligent  apology  for  the  former, — that,  being  a  school- 
girl, she  concealed  her  name,  lest  her  siiuation  should  prevent 
her  from  receiving  those  answers  to  her  various  questions 
which  she  desired.  Astonished  at  finding  a  girl  at  school  ca- 
pable of  proposing  questions  on  which  the  learned  world  had 
been  divided,  from  the  first  dawn  of  science  to  the  present  day, 
I  gave  her  the  best  replies  which  the  limits  of  a  long  letter 
would  allow.  Such  was  the  commencement  of  our  corre- 
spondence." 

One  of  Mr.  Drew's  young  female  friends,  when  announcing 
to  him  her  expected  residence  in  his  neighbourhood  after  a 


244 


LITE  OF  SAMUEL  DREW. 


long  absence,  writes,  in  1823,  "I  hope  to  see  much  of  you,  to 
talk  frequently  to  you,  and  once  again  share  your  kind  instruc- 
tions. I  shall  again  mark  the  argumentative  position  of  your 
finger,  the  roguish  turn  of  your  expressive  eye,  and  hear  your 
aftectionate  exhortations  to  avoid  evil  and  cleave  to  that  which 
is  good." 

The  Moral  Tales  of  Samuel  Wesley  he  greatly  admired. 
He  had  committed  them  to  memory,  because  of  their  point  and 
humour,  for  which  he  had  always  a  keen  relish ;  and  his 
friendly  admonitions  to  his  female  acquaintances  were  frequently 
mingled  with  quotations  from  "the  Cobbler,"  " the  Mastiff," 
and  "  the  Basket."  A  lady  whom  he  had  given  away  at  the 
altar  remarks,  in  a  letter  addressed  to  him  shortly  after  her 
marriage,  "  I  always  take  care  to  '  pin  the  basket,'  and  I  have 
not  attempted  to  ride  the  mastiff  yet."  To  one  of  his  daughters 
he  presented  a  copy  of  these  tales,  with  this  memorandum  ap- 
pended to  "the  Basket," — "Let  no  female  acquaintance  of 
mine  be  married  until  she  can  repeat  this  piece. — Samuel 
Dkew." 

The  letters  which  follow  furnish  a  specimen  of  Mr.  Drew's 
familiar  epistolary  instructions. 

"  St.  Austell,  April  22,  1816. 

"  My  dear  Fhiend, 
"  Although  many  months  have  elapsed  since  I  wrote  you 
last,  this  letter  will  inform  you  that  omission  implies  neither 
forgetful ness  nor  neglect.  I  frequently  think  of  the  few  pleas- 
ing hours  we  spent  together,  both  at  Harpur-street  and  at  St. 
John's-square.    But  these  hours  are  gone  for  ever ;  and 

'  Of  joys  departed 
Not  to  return,  how  painful  the  remembrance  I' 

"When  I  left  London,  I  had  some  expectation  of  revisiting 
it  about  this  lime ;  but  a  train  of  circumstances  prevents  me 
from  fulfilling  my  wishes,  f,  however,  look  forward  to  this 
time  twelvemonth,  when,  if  life  and  health  permit,  1  hope 
again  to  see  it.  But  this,  I  expect,  will  be  the  last  time  for  life  ; 
and  you  will  not  be  there,  neither  do  I  expect  to  see  any  of  your 
family,  except  such  as  live  at  St.  John's-square,  unless  I  come 
when  Dr.  Clarke  is  in  London.  Of  late  I  have  been  so  busy, 
that  I  have  not  been  able  to  keep  up  a  regular  correspondence 
with  any  person.    1  hope,  in  the  course  of  a  few  months,  to 


FAMILIAR  ADVICE. 


24S 


have  a  little  mi)re  leisure,  when  I  shall  renew  my  acquaintance 
with  my  old  friends. 

"  When  you  write  me,  let  me  know  what  books  you  have  been 
reading,  and  what  proficiency  you  have  made  in  metaphysics. 
Your  last  letter  was  written  with  too  much  hesitation,  diffidence, 
and  perplexity.  You  must  not  be  afraid  of  me.  You  saw  me 
a  plain,  blunt  fellow,  in  London,  who  was  mistaken  for  a  black- 
smith. Do  not  be  afraid  of  committing  yourself.  Remember 
this  rule — The  person  who  nemr  made  a  blunder  never  made  a 
discovery.  If  you  always  tread  near  the  central  parts  of  a  cir- 
cle, you  will  never  obtain  much  accurate  knowledge  of  its  cir- 
cumference :  and,  consequently,  you  will  never  widen  the  hori- 
zon of  knowledge.  It  is  on  the  extremily  of  the  circle  that 
metaphysicians  must  walk  ;  and  they  must  not  be  terrified,  if 
they  sometimes  slip  their  feet  and  fall. 

"  Since  I  last  saw  yon,  I  have  not  done  much  in  this  depart- 
ment. Subjects  of  a  difTerent  nature  have  engaged  my  thoughts  ; 
nor  do  1  think  that  I  shall  be  able  to  turn  my  attention  to  the 
study  of  this  science  until  several  months  more  have  elapsed. 
It  is  a  thorny  region  ;  but  it  furnishes  firm  footing,  which  af- 
fords a  recompense  for  all  our  toils. 

"  lint  neither  metaphysics,  nor  any  merely  human  science, 
can  procure  for  us  an  interest  in  the  felicities  of  eternity.  All 
may  be  made  subservient  to  our  eternal  welfare.,  and  may  con- 
tribute to  that  expansion  of  mind  which  we  shall  carry  with  us 
into  eternity.  To  what  extent  the  mental  faculties  are  capable 
of  expanding,  it  is  probable  that  we  shall  never  know,  until  we 
enter  into  a  world  of  spirits.  Knowledge,  without  doubt,  is  an 
inlet  of  felicity ;  and  perhaps  no  inconsiderable  portion  of  happi- 
ness in  heaven  will  arise  from  our  being  able  for  ever  to  draw 
from  the  ocean  of  eternal  truth,  without  the  possibility  of  ex- 
hausting it. 

"  Hereafter  we  may  have  an  opportunity  of  enlarging  on  this 
important  subject,  should  lime  and  favourable  circumstances 
concur.  But,  from  that  distance  which  lies  between  us,  I 
scarcely  expect  wc  shall  behold  each  other's  fiices  again. 

"  May  the  Lord  in  mercy  bless  you  with  health  in  time,  and 
happiness  in  eternity. 

'*  I  remain  your  sincere  friend, 

"  Samuel  Drew. 

"  Miss  Mary  Ann  Clarke, 
"  Harpur-street,  London." 


246 


LIFE  OF  SAMUEL  DREW. 


"Liverpool,  Dec.  22,  1819. 

"  My  dear  Sister, 
"I duly  received  your  letter  by  Dr.  Clarke,  and  was  equally 
glad  to  hear  from  my  only  sister  thai  her  family  was  well,  as 
she  could  be  to  receive  a  letter  from  me.  My  health  is  good  ; 
I  do  not  know  that  I  have  had  an  hour's  indisposition  since  .1 
left  St.  Austell.  But  you  may  be  assured  that  my  time  is  much 
taken  up  about  my  business.  It  is  not  to  be  expected  that  I 
could  come  hither  to  do  nothing.  Sometimes  I  find  myself  in 
solitude,  and  sigh  after  home  ;  but  1  have  here  a  numerous  train 
of  friends,  who  do  every  thing  in  their  power  to  make  me  com- 
fortable ;  and,  hearing  constantly  from  home,  my  gloom  sub- 
sides. 

"  I  am  exceedingly  glad  to  find  that  your  children  all  behave 
themselves  well.  So  long  as  this  is  the  case,  tell  them  that 
their  uncle  will  love  and  respect  them  ;  but  if  they  behave 
badly,  especially  as  they  grow  to  maturity,  he  will  have  nothing 
to  do  with  them.  To  tell  me  that  Mary  is  a  good  girl  is  giving 
no  new  information ;  it  is  only  confirming  that  opinion  which  I 
have  always  entertained  of  her,  and  which  I  hope  she  will  never 
give  me  any  occasion  to  alter.  Of  James,  also,  I  am  much 
pleased  to  hear  a  favourable  account.  He  is  now  come  to  an 
age  in  which  his  character  should  acquire  stability  ;  and  I 
hope  he  will  not  give  you  any  occasion  to  send  me  a  difljerent 
account  when  you  write  again.  I  hope  that  both  Mary  and 
James  will  use  ;ill  the  means  in  their  power  to  improve  their 
minds,  without  losing  sight  of  those  duties  which  they  owe  to 
God  and.their  parents.  I  hope  that  Jabez  will  conduct  himself 
well,  and  that  he  is  attentive  to  his  learning.  I  desire  to  know, 
when  you  write  next,  how  far  he  is  advanced  in  ciphering,  and 
let  him  write  on  your  letter  a  few  words,  that  I  may  see  how 
his  writing  is  improved.  As  to  his  behaviour,  I  expect  it  is  such 
as  will  bear  examination,  after  due  allowances  for  age  and  cir- 
cumstances. I  hope,  while  he  behaves  well,  that  I  shall  al- 
ways respect  him,  on  account  of  his  uncle  Jabez,  whom  he 
never  knew.  Samuel  is  my  namesake,  and  if  he  conducts 
himself  improperly,  I  shall  be  ready  to  wish  that  he  had  been 
called  something  else  ;  but  while  he  is  a  good  lad,  I  shall  be  j 
glad  to  think  that  he  bears  my  name.  Thomasin  is  called  after  | 
her  own  modier's  name,  and  my  mother's.  She  is  equal  in  J 
name, — I  hope  she  will  be  equal  in  good  behaviour:  while  I  4 
hear  that  this  is  the  case,  I  shall  love  her,  and  shall  always  be  5 
glad  to  hear  of  her  welfare.  As  your  health,  my  dear  sister, 
1  find  from  your  letter,  is  rather  precarious,  this  lays  an  addi- 


FAMILIAR  AD  VICE. 


247 


tional  obligation  on  all  the  children  to  love,  assist,  and  readily 
obey  your  commands,  as  well  as  those  of  their  father.  And 
whatever  improvement  they  may  make  in  any  other  respect,  I 
shall  never  have  a  very  favourable  opinion  of  them,  if  they 
are  disobedient  to  their  parents.  They  may  rest  assured,  that 
while  this  is  the  case,  the  blessing  of  God  can  never  be  ex- 
pected upon  lliem,  either  while  they  are  children  or  when  they 
are  grown  up  to  maturity.  I  am  sorry  to  learn  that  your  health 
is  in  a  declining  state  :  I  hope  it  amounts  to  nothing  of  a  se- 
rious nature.  You  ask  me,  will  *I  notice  and  respect  your 
children,  should  you  be  taken  from  them  ?  Yes,  my  dear  sister, 
so  far  as  I  can,  consistently  with  my  own  family,  your  children 
shall  never  want  a  friend  while  their  uncle  lives.  I  will  advise 
them,  admonish,  or  reprove,  and  assist  them  to  the  utmost  of 
my  power. 

"  To  uncle  I  desire  to  be  particularly  remembered.  Indeed, 
I  conceive  that  I  am  as  much  writing  to  him  as  I  am  to  you; 
only  it  would  seem  strange  not  to  introduce  his  name.  1  have 
some  thoughts  of  visiting  Cornwall,  should  I  live  to  see  the 
summer  ;  but  the  distance  is  great,  and  the  expense  is  heavy. 
I  am  now  nearly  four  hundred  miles  from  you.  May  you  live 
long,  and  live  happily  together.  I  do  not  doubt  that  we  shall 
meet  again  in  time  ;  but  if  not,  I  trust  we  shall  meet  in  heaven. 

"The  spiritual  advice  which  you  request  of  me  I  scarcely 
know  how  to  give.  I  know  you  are  naturally  inclined  to  viev\r 
every  thing  on  the  darkest  side.  Why  should  you  doubt  the 
goodness  of  God  ?  or  why  question  his  ability  or  readiness  to 
save  to  the  uttermost  ?  You  say  your  faiih  is  little.  'I'his  may 
be;  but  remember,  our  safety  does  not  depend  upon  the  strength 
or  the  weakness  of  our  faith,  but  its  Genuineness.  The  same 
God  who  has  hitherto  kept  you  is  able  and  willing  to  keep 
you  10  the  end.  Little  faith  is  always  attended  with  doubts 
and  fears, — above  which  strong  faith  mounts  ;  but  safety  is  as 
much  the  lot  of  the  one  as  of  the  other.  The  strength  or  weak- 
ness of  faith  may,  and  will,  affect  our  enjoyments,  and  have 
a  considerable  influence  on  our  joys  and  sorrows  ;  but  both 
that  which  is  strong  and  that  which  is  weak  lay  hold  of  Christ, 
and  He  is  the  foundaiion  of  our  hope.  May  God  Almighty 
grant  you  his  blessing,  in  time  and  eternity  !  So  prays  your 
affectionate  brother,  brother-in-law,  and  uncle, 

"  Samuel  Dr'ew. 

»  Mrs.  T.  Kingdon,  Tywardreath." 


428 


LIFE  OF  SAMCEL  DREW. 


"  38  Newgate-street,  London, 
"  Aug.  30th,  1826. 

"My  dear  Nephew, 

"  Your  letter,  though  dated  January  2d,  did  not  reach  me 
until  about  a  month  since  ;  and  it  is  not  always  that  I  can  find 
time  to  write,  or  an  opportunity  of  sending  what  I  have  written 
free  of  expense.  However,  that  you  may  not  ihink  your  letter 
neglected,  I  have  snatched  a  few  moments  from  the  common 
avocations  of  life  to  devote,  to  you. 

"  I  am  glad  to  find  that  you  are  industrious  and  careful,  and 
that  with  you  trade  is  brisk.  Your  only  danger,  I  conceive, 
arises  from  your  giving  credit  to  persons  who  cannot  or  will 
not  pay.  Make  good  articles,  and  charge  a  good  price,  such 
as  the  country  will  bear,  and  your  trade  will  recommend  itself. 

"  By  turning  your  attention  to  reading,  when  the  business  of 
the  shop  is  over,  you  will  find  employment  more  profitable  than 
any  association  with  companions  can  aflbrd,  and  furnish  your 
mind  with  resources  that  will  always  yield  delight. 

"  You  express  a  wish  that  I  were  nearer,  to  give  you  instruc- 
tion in  many  things.  Were  I  present,  no  doubt  this  could  be 
done.  But  remember,  others  can  only  point  out  the  gates  and 
doors  which  lead  to  the  fields  of  knowledge.  Every  one  must 
traverse  the  hills  and  valleys  for  himself;  and  it  is  only  by  un- 
remitting application  and  perseverance  that  the  attempt  will  be 
crowned  with  success. 

"  You  ask,  '  Wherein  lies  the  difference  between  foreknow- 
ledge and  predestination?'  Foreknowledge  is  simply  the  (//j- 
cernment  of  an  action  or  thing  that  is  about  to  exist;  predes- 
tination is  the  appointment  of  the  a'^tion  or  thing.  There  is, 
therefore,  as  much  difference  as  there  is  between  knowing  the 
destination  of  a  ship  and  directing  her  to  undertake  and  accom- 
plish her  voyage. 

"  Between  tlie  temptations  of  Satan  and  the  evil  inclinations 
of  our  hearts  the  distinction  is  not  so  evident.  Temptations 
gen^erally  assail  us  tlirough  our  inclinations,  and  give  to  tliem  a 
degree  of  strength  which,  without  temptation,  they  could  not 
exercise.  Temptation  also  frequently  furnishes  food  for  evil 
inclination,  by  placing  objects  in  our  way  ;  as  fishermen  bait 
their  hooks  to  catch  the  finny  tribes.  In  both  cases,  our  duty 
is  to  suppress  evil  inclination,  and  to  resist  temptation  ;  and 
this  power,  througli  Divine  grace,  may  be  attained.  Do  not 
neglect  to  attend  public  worship,  and  to  conduct  yourself  as  the 
principles  of  the  Gospel  require.    Above  all,  look  to  Jesus, 


SINGULAR  CORRESPONDENCE. 


249 


through  the  efficacy  of  whose  atonement  our  title  to  heaven  is 
to  be  obtained,  by  the  exercise  of  faith. 

"  I  shall  be  glad  to  hear  from  you  whenever  you  can  find  time 
to  write,  and  beg  you  will  not  be  afraid  or  ashamed  to  state  any 
question. 

"  That  God  may  give  you  his  blessing  for  time  and  eternity, 
is  the  sincere  wish  of 

"  Your  affectionate  uncle, 

"  Samuel  Drew. 

"  To  Mr.  James  Kingdon,  Jun., 
"  St.  Blazey." 

Fiirtlier  illustrations  of  Mr.  Drew's  affectionate  manner  of 
giving  advice  and  instruction,  in  his  familiar  correspondence, 
we  hope  to  present  at  the  close  of  the  volume. 

There  are,  perhaps,  few  more  pleasing  instances  of  his 
freedom  of  communication  than  a  correspondence  which  he 
maintained  with  a  lady,  who  was,  at  the  time,  the  subject  of 
mental  aberration.  Two  letters  selected  from  this  correspond- 
ence we  introduce.  That  from  the  lady  may  gratify  curiosity, 
as  exhibiting  a  remarkable  instance  of  monomania. 

"  Dear  Sir, 

"As  one  of  our  nurses  is  going  to  St.  Austell,  I  have  taken 
the  liberty  of  troubling  you  with  a  few  lines  of  inquiry  after 
your  health. 

"  I  shall  not  apologize  for  sending  the  poetry,  as  I  trust  it 
will  be  acceptable.  You  will  see,  by  the  sentiments,  it  was 
not  lately  written,  and  will  forgive  the  warmth  of  my  expres- 
sions, when  I  tell  you  it  was  composed  within  a  few  weeks 
of  my  first  becoming  an  inmate  of  the  lunatic  asylum.  The 
answer  to  my  vindication  of  you  was  written  by  one  of  my 
companions  ;  who,  on  taking  a  cursory  review  of  your  work, 
had  condemned  it  as  being  a  wild  chimera,  and,  in  fact,  estab- 
lishing nothing.  I  was  informed  of  thi-^  previously  to  my  see- 
ing him  ;  and  the  energies  of  friend. ship,  perhaps  heightened 
by  disorder,  produced  that  epistle  almost  extemporary,  which 
lyou  will  find  in  the  beginning  of  the  book.  I  had  an  interview 
la  few  days  after,  and  was  sufficiently  mortified  and  punished 
'for  the  temerity  of  my  attack,  by  finding  poetry  was  his  least 
accomplishment;  he  was  sensible,  elegant,  refined,  and  fasci- 
nating. 

"  You,  who  know  'great  wit  to  madness  nearly  is  allied,' 


250 


LIFE  OF  SAMUEL  DREW. 


will  not  be  surprised  at  my  saying,  that  I  have  here  met  with 
gentlemen  (I  am  sorry  to  be  obliged  to  write  in  the  past  tense) 
of  superior  sense  and  learning  to  what  I  had  been  accustomed 
— whose  insanity  consisted  chiefly  in  eccentricities  ;  — those  we 
dignify  with  the  name  of  rational  madmen.  The  book  I  have 
sent  is  a  present  to  you  from  a  most  worthy  gentleman,  who  is 
one  of  the  principal  of  our  committee  ;  and,  from  some  fancied 
merit,  perhaps,  has  kindly  noticed  me  ever  since  my  first  com- 
ing to  the  house,  which  he  visits  every  week  with  the  other 
gentlemen  of  .'he  city. 

"  He  had  read  and  admired  your  work  on  the  '  Identity  of 
the  Human  Body,'  and,  seeing  your  name  on  my  scrawl,  kindly 
offered  to  send  any  letter  to  you,  and  that  I  would  beg  your 
acceptance  of  tliis  book,  with  his  respects.  You  may  suppose 
how  willing  I  was  lo  oblige  a  person  I  have  so  much  reason 
to  esteem,  and,  if  I  have  not  disobliged  you,  shall  not  be  dis- 
satisfied with  what  I  have  done. 

"  With  my  best  wishes, 

"  I  remain,  dear  sir, 

"  Yours  respectfully, 

"I  have  lately  begun  to  read  Locke,  whom  I  understand  pretty 
well,  upon  the  whole;  but  I  should  be  obliged  by  your  telling 
me,  if  what  he  terms  pure  space,  infinite  space,  and  vacuum  are 
synonymous,  and  whether  it  excludes  even  air  and  eihijr.  I  con- 
fess 1  cannot  readily  comprehend  this;  and,  if  so,  how  am  I 
to  understand  his  own  words,  at  the  137ih  page  of  the  first 
book,  viz. — '  For  I  desire  any  one  so  to  divide  a  solid  body,  of 
any  dimension  he  pleases,  as  to  make  it  possible  for  tlie  solid 
parts  to  move  up  and  down  freely  every  way  within  the  bounds 
of  their  superficies,  if  there  be  not  left  in  it  a  void  space  as  big 
as  the  least  part  into  which  he  has  divided  the  said  solid 
body.' 

"  Is  the  space  he  there  mentions  of  the  same  nature  as  pure 
space?  But  what  can  we  know  of  space  which  excludes  air? 
'And  let  this  void  space,'  says  he,  'be  as  little  as  it  will, 
it  destroys  the  hypothesis  of  plenitude.'  I  am  sorry  to 
trouble  you,  but  well  remember  how  clearly  I  comprehended 
your  discourse  of  space  infinite,  and  infinite  space,  when  I  saw 
you  ;  and  doubt  not  but  I  shall  be  able  to  understand  your  defi- 
nitions." 

["  Received  July  31,  1812,  yrom  the  Nurse  of  the  Asylum. 

"  S.  Drew."] 


SINGULAR  CORKESPONDENCE. 


251 


"St.  Austell,  July  31,  1812. 

"  My  old  CORRESPOXDEXr, 

"  Your  letter,  your  miinuscript,  and  the  treatise  translated  by 
Mr.  M.  readied  me  in  safety,  and  this  letter  is  designed  to  be 
returned  by  the  person  who  brought  me  the  parcel.  I  sin- 
cerely thank,  you  for  each  favour,  and  am  much  pleased  with 
all.  I  have  perused  all  your  lines  with  pleasure,  and  have 
discovered  in  each  piece  much  of  that  original  genius  for 
which  1  have  always  given  you  the  fullest  credit.  In  some 
instances,  your  language  is  humorously  severe,  particularly 
on  Dr.  D.,  '  wiiose  face  is  always  best  covered.'  Your  vindi- 
cation of  my  Essay  proves  the  warmth  and  sincerity  of  your 
friendsliip.  Some  of  the  strokes  are  bold  and  full  of  energy. 
It_  plainly  appears  that  you  have  entered  into  the  tendency  and 
design  of  that  publication,  and  that  you  have  fully  appreciated 
the  force  of  many  of  my  arguments.  When  friendship  and 
judgment  are  united,  they  carry  the  mind  to  its  intended  object 
with  more  than  common  rapidity. 

"  On  your  questions  concerning  Mr.  Locke's  observations 
on  spuce,  and  pleniluJe,  and  vacuum,  I  will  make  a  few  re- 
marks. Mr.  Locke  considers  that  space  has  a  positive  exist- 
ence, that  it  is  necessarily  existent,  and  that  it  is  infinite  in  its 
expansion.    On  the  contrary,  lie  conceives  that  matter  is  only 

finite,  and,  because  finite,  that  it  is  neither  necessarily  existent 
nor  eternal.  From  these  two  considerations  it  follows,  ihaf 
space  must  be  more  extensive  than  matter  or  body  ; — space 
being  boundless,  because  infinite,  and  matter  or  body  being 
bounded,  because  finite  ;  and  consequently  there  must  be  some 
space  in  the  universe  where  no  body  is.  Mr.  Locke,  on  this 
princi^ile,  argues,  that  if  there  had  not  been  space  in  the  uni- 
verse without  body,  body  must  be  infinite,  and  then  there  would 
liave  been  a  universal  plenitude  of  body;  in  which  case,  motion 
would  have  been  impossible,  because  every  body  in  motion  must 
then  have  moved  through  solidity,  which  is  impossible.  But 
since  there  is  motion  in  the  material  world,  he  justly  concludes 
that  there  must  be  space  without  body,  which  is  demonstrated 
by  the  existence  of  motion.  When  he  speaks  of  pure  space, 
he  conlines  his  view  to  simple  expansion  alone,  excluding  from 

k  that  idea,  not  only  the  extent  of  its  dimensions,  but  body  also. 

} Infinite  space  he  views  in  its  boundless  extent,  without  regard- 
Lig  whether  it  be  connected  with  matter  or  not.  Vacuum  is 
certainly  nothing  more  than  the  mere  negation  of  matter ;  and, 
though  sometimes  blended  with  the  idea  of  space,  in  the  room 
of  wiiich  the- term  is  sometimes  substituted,  it  is  certainly  dis- 


254 


LIFE  OF  SAMUEL  DREW. 


but  it  has  been  at  almost  the  lowest  grade.  It  now  seems 
ascending,  and  Providence  perhaps  designs  to  make  me  instru- 
mental to  its  elevation." 

So  much  did  Mr.  D.  shrink  from  public  notice,  that,  within 
two  years  of  his  decease,  having  been  on  some  particular 
occasion  in  the  city  on  a  Sunday  morning  until  it  was  too  late 
to  return  to  his  usual  place  of  worship,  he  would  not  go  into  a 
Wesleyan  chapel  where  he  was  known,  le.st  he  should  attract 
attention,  or  be  invited  to  preach.  After  standing  awhile  in 
the  lobby,  he  said  to  the  gentleman  who  accompanied  him, 
"  Well,  I  really  do  not  like  to  go  in — let  us  go  to  some 
church." 

Being  reminded  of  the  high  encomium  which  Dr.  Clarke,  in 
his  autobiography,  had  passed  upon  him,*  he  observed, 
"That  is  quite  an  hyperbole,  beyond  all  reason.  Yet  a  liter- 
ary gentleman  told  me,  that,  independently  of  the  compliment, 
the  paragraph  in  which  the  doctor  has  introduced  my  name  is 
the  most  elegantly  written  in  the  whole  volume.  Dr.  Clarke 
liked  my  metaphysics  because  1  took  up  my  subject  as  I  found 
it  in  nature,  without  entangling  it  with  any  preconceived 
notions  and  opinions.  But,  dear  me,  what  should  I  be  beside 
the  metaphysicians  of  Scotland?  They'd  frigliten  me  out  of 
my  wits — though,  perhaps,  more  about  the  etymology  of  terms 
— whether  this  were  derived  from  the  Greek,  and  that  from 
the  Latin  or  French,  and  so  forth — than  with  the  subject  of 
discussion  itself." 

The  same  diffidence  of  his  own  abilities  will  be  seen  in  the 

*  «'  Among  those  whom  Mr.  Clarke  joined  to  the  Methodist  society  in 
St.  Austell  was  Samuel  Drew,  then  terminating  his  apprenticeship  to  a 
shoemaker,  and  since  become  one  of  the  iirst  metaphysicians  in  the  em- 
pire ;  as  his  works  on  the  Immateriality  and  Immortahly  of  Ihe  Soul  of 
man,  the  Identity  and  Resurrection  of  the  Human  Body,  and  the  Bci7ig 
and  Attributes  of  God  sufficiently  testify.  A  man  of  primitive  simplicity 
of  manners,  amiableness  of  disposition,  piety  towards  God,  and  benevo- 
lence to  men,  seldom  to  be  equalled  ;  and  for  reach  of  tliouglit,  keenness 
of  discrimination,  purity  of  language,  and  manly  eloquence,  not  to  be  sur- 
passed in  any  of  the  common  walks  of  life.  He  shortly  liecanie  a  local 
preacher  among  the  Methodists,  and  in  this  office  he  continues  to  the 
present  day.  In  short,  his  circumstances  considered,  with  the  mode  of 
his  education,  he  is  one  of  those  prodigies  of  nature  and  grace  which  God  ^ 
rarely  e,xhibits  ;  but  which  serve  to  keep  np  the  connecting  link  between  j 
those  who  arc  confined  to  houses  of  clay,  whose  foundations  are  in  the  ] 
dust,  and  beings  of  superior  order,  in  those  regions  where  infirmity  can- 
not enter,  and  where  the  sunshine  of  knowledge  suffers  neither  diminution 
nor  eclipse." — Life  of  Dr.  Clarke,  vol.  i.  p.  319. 


HIS   PEKSONAL  CHARACTER 


255 


following  letter,  which  exhibits  much  candour,  modesty,  and 
correct  thinking. 

"  St.  Austell,  Jan.  10,  1810. 

"  My  bear  Sir, 

"  I  am  happy  to  find  that  my  letter  reached  you  at  a  mo- 
ment when  you  were  in  a  good  humour.  I  should  have  learned 
this  fact  from  the  vivacity  of  your  epistle,  if  you  had  not 
informed  me ;  and  I  hope  this  will  not  meet  your  eye  in  a  less 
auspicious  hour. 

"  I  thought,  when  you  hinted  that  my  philosophy  had  not 
subdued  my  prejudices,  that  you  intended  to  rally  me  on  some 
branches  of  my  creed ;  but,  on  perusing  further,  1  soon  found 
that  your  pleasing  lenitives  far  outweighed  the  corrosives 
wliich  I  expected.  1  thank  yon  for  your  hints,  and  really  ad- 
mire your  masterly  apology  for  my  views  of  eternal  things. 
Believe  me,  my  dear  sir,  I  have  embraced  the  sentiments 
which  I  briefly  stated  from  a  conviction  of  their  propriety, 
though  arising  from  a  combination  of  causes  which  it  would 
be  difficult  to  define,  and  of  which  it  would  be  almost  impos- 
sible 10  mark  the  discriminating  influence.  Suflice  it  to  say, 
that  the  efl"ect  was  produced,  and  the  result  still  continues, 
however  incompetent  I  may  find  myself  to  trace  the  various 
branches  to  their  respective  sources. 

"  I  sincerely  thank  you  for  the  few  observations  which  you 
made  on  Mr.  Professor  Scott  and  Mr.  D.  Stewart.  I  had  no- 
thing in  view  but  private  gratification  wiien  I  inquired  after 
them.  Perhaps  it  is  natural  to  the  human  mind  to  feel  some 
solicitude  about  those  of  whom  we  have  heard,  especially 
when  they  have  distinguished  tliemselves  in  those  departments 
of  literature  which  are  congenial  with  the  bias  of  our  thoughts. 
By  first  writing  to  me,  a  perfect  stranger,  half-buried  in  ob- 
scure life,  you  did  me  an  honour  which  I  can  acknowledge,  but 
not  requite. 

I"  .-Vs  you  have  seen  the  memoirs  of  my  life  which  1  prefixed 
to  my  '  Essay  on  the  Resurrection,'  I  need  not  tell  you  my 
personal  history,  nor  descant  upon  the  difficulties  through 
which  I  have  passed,  to  enter  the  field  of  literature.  It  was 
fcny  lot  to  have  no  education ;  but  whether  I  may  reckon  this 
kmong  the  misfortunes  or  advantages  of  my  life,  it  is  hard  to 
feay  The  mind,  without  doubt,  receives  its  polish  from  the 
refinements  which  education  imparts,  and  becomes  expanded 
in  proportion  to  the  objects  which  are  presented  to  its  views. 
If  this  advantage  had  been  mine,  I  should  have  been  considered 


256 


LIFE  OF  SAMUEL  DREW. 


as  a  competitor  with  men  whom  I  could  not  rival,  and  should 
have  sunk  into  insignificance  by  falling  short  of  my  mark.  My 
learning  would  have  broken  the  optic  of  compassion,  and  have 
exposed  me  to  a  naked  inspection  which  I  could  not  have 
withstood.  From  these  dangers  I  am  now  happily  shielded ; 
so  that,  on  the  whole,  I  have  no  reason  to  complain.  Under 
present  circumstances,  I  have  obtained  a  reputation  through 
friendship  which  I  could  not  have  acquired  from  rigid  justice,* 
if  knowledge  had  unrolled  her  ample  stores  with  a  more  liberal 
hand.  Reputation,  however,  is  only  a  remote  consideration ; 
and  when  first  I  commenced  author,  {  had  no  more  expectation 
of  obtaining  fame  than  I  had  of  procuring  wealth. 

"  I  trust,  amid  the  events  and  incidents  of  life,  that  God  vvill 
give  me  grace  so  to  pass  through  time,  that  I  may,  through 
the  merits  of  Jesus  Christ,  obtain  at  last  '  an  inheritance  in- 
corruptible, undefiled,  and  that  fadeth  not  away.' 

"  That  this  may  be  our  joint  portion  in  eternity,  though  we 
may  never  behold  each  other's  faces  in  time,  is  the  sincere 
desire  of, 

"  Reverend  and  dear  sir, 

"  Yours  most  sincerely, 

"  Samuel  Dkew. 
"  Rev.  Professor  James  Kidd,  Aberdeen." 

In  a  former  part  of  our  narrative  we  have  noticed,  at  some 
length,  Mr.  Drew's  intkgrity  and  humanity  in  early  life. 
Of  these  qualities  a  few  illustrations  of  more  recent  date  may- 
be acceptable. 

A  day  or  two  before  his  removal  from  London,  though  his 
mind  was  then  unhinged,  he  enumerated  very  particularly  the 
different  charitable  and  other  institutions  to  which  he  was  a 
coiuributor,  and  placed  in  his  daugiitcr's  hands  a  year's  sub- 
scription for  each,  that  all  obligations  of  that  kind  might  be 
fully  discharged. 

During  a  season  of  dearth  he  bargained  with  a  farmer  for  a 
busheP  of  wheat  monthly,  throughout  tiie  year,  at  a  fixed  rate. 
A  few  weeks  afterward  the  price  of  corn  fell  nearly  one-third. 
The  terms  of  the  bargain  did  not  bind  him  to  purcliase  under^ 
such  circumstances;  but  he  regarded  the  spirit  rather  than  thel 
letter  of  the  agreement ;  and,  contrary  to  the  farmer's  expect^ 
ation,  continued  to  buy  during  the  twelve  months  at  the  stipufl 
lated  price.    The  farmer  appreciated  Mr.  D.'s  honourable  con^ 
duct,  and  brought  him  a  thirteenth  bushel  gratis. 

*  The  Cornish  is  equal  to  three  imperial  bushels. 


HIS   PERSONAL  CHARACTKR. 


257 


Bv  most  of  the  inhabitants  of  Cornwall  it  will  be  recollected, 
that  about  the  period  when  the  West  Briton  newspaper  was 
commenced,  much  acrimonious  feeling  either  real  or  pretended 
was  shown  towards  its  editor  by  the  proprietor  and  editor  of 
the  Cornwall  Gazette,  then  recently  become  an  ultra  tory 
journal.  These  gentlemen  had  been  previously  on  terms  of 
peculiar  intimacy  ;  and  Mr.  Drew  was  the  friend  and  acquaint- 
ance of  boih.  Before  the  appearance  of  the  West  Briton,  and 
while  the  Cornish  advocates  of  parliamentary  reform  were,  by 
the  exclusion  of  their  communications  from  the  other  paper, 
compelled  lo  publish  their  sentiments  in  pamphlets,  Mr.  D. 
received  the  following  letter  : — 

"  Dear  Sir, 

"  You  have  doubtless  seen  Mr.  Budd's  reply  ;  to  which, 
you  will  admit,  there  is  a  necessity  for  a  rejoinder.  In  that 
rejoinder  I  shall,  with  the  view  of  showing  his  '  unfitness  to 
write  upon  parliamentary  reform^  instance,  among  other  mat- 
ters, his  avowed  hostility  to  the  Church,  as  displayed  in  his 
debate  with  you  the  evening  you  and  I  spent  with  him  at  his 
house  ;  and  I  do  expect,  from  your  honour  and  conscience,  that 
you  will  not  blink  the  truth  when  called  upon.  I  merely  give 
you  this  as  a  notice  of  my  intended  use  of  your  name.  If  you 
have  any  thing  to  say  in  the  mean  time,  I  shall  be  glad  to  hear 
from  you  by  post. 

"  Mr.  Samuel  Drew,  St.  Austell." 


This  letter  was  followed  by  another  the  next  day,  apolo- 
gizing for  having  inadvertently  sent  the  first  without  date  or 
name.  There  is  a  severity  of  reproof  and  a  spirit  of  manly 
integrity  in  Mr.  Drew's  reply.  The  former  part  of  it  was 
written  before  the  receipt  of  the  second  letter. 


i  "  St.  Austell,  May  21,  1810. 

t  "Dear  Sir, 

Wl  "I  this  morning  received  a  letter,  without  a  date  and  with 
out  a  name,  which  I  have  reason  to  believe  came  from  you,  as 
^wio  other  person  could  have  been  acquainted  with  the  subjec^ 
^Bp  which  it  alludes.  It  is  rather  singular  that  both  name  and 
^^Bate  should  be  omitted  through  mere  accident.  It  has  all  the 
^^Rppearance  of  suspicious  caution  or  secret  design. 

"  I  am  extremely  sorry  to  find  that  you  intend  so  far  to 
W  violate  the  laws  of  hospitality,  as  to  publish  to  the  world  a  pri- 
f     vate  conversation  which  took  place  about  two  years  since  ;  and 
Y2 


258 


LIFE  OF  SAMUEL  DREW. 


that  you  intend  to  draw  from  it  an  inference  injurious  to  the 
man  at  whose  house  both  yon  and  I  were  entertained.  I  hope 
your  political  principles  will  not  influence  your  memory. 

"  It  is  with  peculiar  reluctance  that  I  shall  attempt,  at  the 
bar  of  the  public,  to  decide  between  two  men  whose  merits  I 
highly  esteem  ;  but,  when  summoned  before  the  tribunal,  you 
need  not  fear  that  I  shall  '  blink  the  truth.'  I  have  no  right  to 
forbid  you  to  publish  what  you  heard  ;  and  neither  interest  nor 
weakness  will  induce  me  to  request  you  to  suppress  my  name. 
I  hope,  however,  in  future,  to  be  cautious  how  I  take  either 
side  of  an  abstract  argument  in  your  presence. 

"  I  remain,  dear  sir, 

"  Yours  most  respectfully, 

"  Samuel  Drew. 

"  Mr.  Thomas  Flindcll,  Truro. 

"  May  22£i. — The  former  part  of  this  letter  was  written, 
folded  up,  and  directed  before  I  received  yours  this  morning. 
I  intended  to  send  it  by  post  last  evening,  but  was  too  late. 
Your  letter  of  to-day,  of  course,  nullifies  all  my  first  paragraph. 
With  respect  to  the  second,  I  can  only  repeat  my  regret  that 
you  should  meanly  stoop  to  an  action  which  you  would  despise 
in  another.  In  the  name  of  friendship,  1  beg  you  to  desist  from 
a  deed  that  hereafter  you  will  blush  to  own.  Let  public  ques- 
tions siand  on  public  ground.  For  my  part,  I  am  no  politician, 
as  you  well  know,  and  do  not  care  two  straws  about  the  pres- 
ent contest.  But  I  feel  sorrow  vvhen  I  see  the  bonds  of  friend- 
ship broken,  the  laws  of  hospitality  violated,  confidence  be- 
trayed, and  public  questions  degenerating  into  low  personal- 
ities. 1  remain,  dear  sir,  notwitlistanding  the  tone  of  this 
letter,  with  best  wishes  for  your  welfare, 

"  Yours  sincerely, 

"  Samuel  Drew." 

One  of  the  remarks  which  Mr.  Drew  sometimes  made — "  I 
should  fear  a  poor  man's  curse  far  more  than  I  should  value  a 
rich  man's  smile," — shows  that  he  was  at  once  independent  and 
humane.  Indeed,  these  qualities  were  very  early  developed ; 
they  became,  in  after-years,  settled  principles  of  action 

He  once,  when  a  young  man,  rebuked  his  sister  with  great 
severity,  for  applying  some  unkind  epithet  to  his  father's  par- 
ish apprentice.  There  was  a  poor  girl  distantly  related  to 
him,  who,  being  deficient  in  understanding,  was  neglected  and 


HIS   PERSONAL  CHARACTER. 


559 


unkindly  treated  by  her  own  family.  In  great  distress  she 
came  to  his  house, 

"  Claim'd  kindred  there,  and  had  her  claim  allowed." 

He  took,  her  under  his  protection,  applied,  on  her  behalf,  to  the 
magistrates,  and  did  not  relax  his  efforts  until  he  had  obtained 
for  her  a  suitable  provision. 

Another  little  anecdote  of  his  early  life  evinces  his  feeling 
disposition.  On  a  severe  winter's  day,  when  a  youth,  he  shot 
some  sterlings,  which  were  put  into  a  pudding  for  his  dinner. 
When  the  pudding  was  brought  to  table,  the  idea  that  he  had, 
for  mere  sport,  taken  advantage  of  the  birds'  necessities  to  de- 
stroy them,  oppressed  him  so  much  that  he  could  not  eat  a 
morsel.  "  The  apparition  of  the  starlings,"  he  said  to  a  friend, 
when  relating  the  circumstance,  "had  haunted  him  ever  since  ; 
and  he  never  reflected  on  that  day's  shooting  excursion  without 
regret."  To  some  readers  this  may  appear  a  mawkish  affect- 
ation of  sensibility :  those  who  knew  Mr.  D.  will  judge 
otherwise. 

On  one  occasion,  going  to  collect  some  book-debts,  he  entered 
a  house  where  they  had  owed  him  money  a  long  time.  Sev- 
eral of  the  children  were  ill,  and  there  were  manifest  indica- 
tions of  poverty.  Instead  of  demanding  the  debt,  he  gave 
them  a  donation.  To  one  of  his  boys  who  accompanied  him, 
and  knew  for  what  purpose  he  called  at  the  house,  this  proceed- 
ing was  incomprehensible  ;  and,  with  childish  simplicity,  after 
quitting  it,  he  inquired  the  reason.  The  tear  started  into  Mr. 
Drew's  eye ;  and,  making  some  observation  not  now  remem- 
bered, he  said, 

•  Teach  me  to  feel  another's  wo. 
To  hide  the  fault  I  see  ; 
The  mercy  I  to  others  show, 
That  mercy  show  to  me." 

Once,  while  resident  in  London,  Mr.  D.  walked  a  consid- 
erable distance  for  the  purpose  of  giving  half  a  crown  to  a 
worthy  man  in  poor  circumstances,  who  had,  during  his  absence 
from  home,  brought  a  complimentary  message  from  his  mas- 
ter ;  and  he  was  at  much  pains  to  j)rocure  for  him  an  advance 
of  wages.    The  fact,  though  trivial,  is  characteristic. 

On  ihe  marriage  of  his  youngest  daughter — the  only  wed- 
ding in  his  family  at  which  he  was  present, — his  sensibility 
was  pleasingly  shown.    After  the  ceremony,  leading  his  daugh- 


260 


LIFE   OF   SAMUEL  DREW. 


ter  to  the  parents  of  his  son-in-law,  he  said  to  them,  "I  now 
present  you  with  the  most  precious  gift  which  Heaven  has  put 
into  my  power  to  bestow.  If  I  thought  she  woukl  be  unhappy, 
I  should  break  my  heart."  Then,  pausing  a  moment  or  two, 
very  much  affected,  he  added,  "  But  no  ;  I  have  better  hopes. 
I  shall  not  consider  that  I  have  lost  a  daughter,  but  that  I 
have  gained  a  son — and  may  God  bless  them  together."  Allu- 
ding to  the  circumstance,  in  conversation  with  his  children,  he 
remarked,  "  After  you  and  the  rest  were  gone,  I  threw  myself 
on  the  sofa,  and 

'  Some  natural  tears  I  clr6pped,  but  wiped  them  soon.'  " 

An  intelligent  woman,  in  humble  circumstances,  a  native  of 
Newcastle-upon-Tyne,  now  residing  near  St.  Austell,  very  re- 
cently gave  the  following  relation  to  Mr.  Drew's  sister.  "  It 
was  about  ten  years  since  that  I  went  to  see  my  friends  at 
Newcastle,  and  was  returning  by  way  of  Portsmouth  on  board 
the  steam-packet.  I  was  a  deck  passenger,  and  had  with  me 
a  child  about  twelve  months  old,  unable  to  walk.  Soon  after  I 
was  on  board,  I  was  accosted  by  a  gentleman,  who,  in  a  very 
kind  manner,  inquired  how  far  I  was  going,  whether  the  child 
were  not  a  great  charge  in  travelling,  and  other  familiar  ques- 
tions. He  was  constantly  employed  in  helping  the  sick,  es- 
pecially the  females  and  children.  There  were  two  little  blue- 
coat  boys  that  he  had  especially  taken  under  his  protection. 
They  followed  him  wherever  he  went,  and  when  he  was  sit- 
ting down  and  talking,  they  hung  over  him  with  so  much  afl~ec- 
tion  that  it  was  supposed  they  were  near  relatives ;  but,  to  the 
inquiry  of  some  one,  they  answered  '  No,'  and  that  they  had 
never  seen  tlie  gentleman  before.  As  the  evening  drew  on,  it 
began  to  rain.  He  tlien  came  to  me  and  said,  '  This  exposure 
will  not  do  for  you  and  the  child  ;  I  must  contrive  some  shelter 
for  you  ;'  and  lie  accordingly  got  some  tarpawlings,  and  made 
a  comfortable  screen  for  us.  I  was  not  sick  ;  so  he  then  left 
me,  that  he  might  help  those  who  were,  and  he  continued  assist- 
ing them  most  of  the  night.  The  passengers  were  all  surprised 
at  his  incessant  kindness  and  attention,  in  the  morning  he 
came  to  me  again,  and  with  much  benevolence  of  manner  in- 
quired whether  I  had  breakfasted,  and  expressed  his  satisfac- 
tion that  I  had.  About  ten  o'clock  he  came  once  more,  and 
said,  'What  are  you  going  to  have  for  dinner?' — '  Tea,  sir,'  I 
replied. — '  Ah  !'  said  he,  '  that  is  too  weak  for  you.'  At  din- 
ner-time he  brought  me  a  loaf,  plenty  of  cold  tongue,  and  some 


Hi!   PERSONAL  CHARACTER. 


261 


London  porter,  saying,  '  Now,  tiike  this,  and  it  will  strengthen 
you.'  On  my  observing  that  I  could  not  make  use  of  half  of 
it,  he  replied,  '  Then  put  the  remainder  in  your  basket ;  it  will 
do  another  time.' 

"  In  the  evening,  when  we  arrived  at  Plymouth  (where  the 
steam-packet  passengers  for  the  west  used  to  remain  for  the 
night),  the  gentleman,  supposing  that  I  was  a  stranger  to  the 
place,  offered  to  pay  my  expenses  at  an  inn.  I  thanked  him, 
but  said  my  friends  were  near.  Next  morning,  as  I  was  com- 
ing on  board,  he  was  already  there,  with  his  attendants  the 
blue-coat  boys  ;  and  he  called  to  one  of  the  sailors  to  take  my 
child,  while  he  assisted  me  out  of  the  boat.  His  kind  atten- 
tions were  continued  till  we  reached  Fowey,  where  I  left  the 
vessel :  he  and  the  two  boys  went  on  to  Falmouth.  Who  the 
gentleman  was  I  did  not  then  know;  but  1  afterward  learned 
that  it  was  Mr.  Drew ;  and  never  will  his  kindness  be  erased 
from  my  memory."* 

With  so  much  of  the  love  of  his  neighbour  in  his  composi- 
tion, it  will  be  supposed  that  Mr.  Drew  had  few  enemies.  A 
gentleman  who  knew  him  well  says,  "  I  am  quite  sure  he 
never  deserved  one."  Few  persons,  perhaps,  have  passed 
through  life,  in  this  respect,  more  peacefully.  In  his  unassum- 
ing manners  and  equanimity  of  temper  there  was  scarcely  any 
thing  on  which  envy  itself  could  fasten.  The  governing  max- 
ims of  his  life,  in  his  intercourse  with  others,  were,  "  Never  give 
or  take  offence,"  and,  "  Never  make  an  enemy  where  you  can 
secure  a  friend."  His  indignation  was  sometimes  roused  at 
crime ;  but  no  one  ever  saw  him  overcome  with  anger ;  and 
there  were  few,  we  believe,  of  his  neighbours  who  cherished 
against  him  hostile  feelings.    The  only  individual  who  was 

*  It  is  a  pleasing  task  to  trace  the  features  of  affinity  between  kindred 
minds.  A  delineator  of  the  character  of  the  Rev.  Robert  Hall  says,  "  A 
very  prominent  quality  of  his  mind  seemed  to  be  benevolence.  He  sym- 
pathized most  deeply  with  all  forms  of  distress,  by  the  exertions  of  his 
talents,  and  by  pecuniary  aid  to  the  full  extent  of  his  means.  It  was 
easy  to  discern  in  him  a  great  concern  and  anxiety  to  render  those  that 
were  about  him  as  comfortable  as  possible,  and  a  visible  delight  in  the 
pleasure  of  his  friends.  Akin  to  his  great  benevolence  was  an  unusual 
sensibility  to  kindness.  Little  services,  ofBces  of  respect  and  affection, 
small  endeavours  to  promote  his  comfort,  that  would  generally  be  consid- 
ered as  matters  of  course  even  from  those  whose  relation  to  him  made 
the  action  a  duty,  would  diffuse  a  gleam  of  benignity  and  satisfaction,  and 
draw  forth  lively  expressions  of  gratitude." — Dr.  Gregory's  Memoir, 
p.  270,  i2mo.  edition. 


262 


LIFE   OF  SAMUEL  DREW. 


known  to  speak  of  him  with  rancour,  in  his  last  sickness  sent 
for  Mr.  Drew  to  pray  with  him  and  instruct  him  in  the  verities 
of  the  Christian  religion.  That  the  request  was  complied 
with,  those  who  knew  Mr.  D.  need  not  be  informed. 

An  exemption  from  "  the  strife  of  tongues"  he  did  not  expect. 
Quoting,  as  a  solace  for  others,  a  well-known  aphorism,  he  used 
frequently  to  observe,  "Censure  is  a  tax  which  every  man 
must  pay  for  being  eminent."  At  one  time,  several  anonymous 
letters,  not  of  the  most  laudatory  description,  were  sent  from 
the  neighbouring  town  of  Mevagissey.  The  "  head  and  front 
of  his  offending,"  according  to  the  writer's  allegations,  was  an 
unbecoming  intimacy  with  clergymen,  and  a  deficiency  of  true 
sectarian  spirit!  These  communications,  after  their  perusal, 
were  generally  consigned  to  destruction.  One  of  them  has, 
however,  escaped  the  flames  ;  and,  willi  a  few  omissions,  we 
insert  it  literally,  as  a  curiosity. 

"  To  Mr.  Samuel  Drew,  St.  Austell. 

"  It  has  long  been  the  practice  of  writers  to  complain  of 
the  infidelity  of  the  age,  without  attempting  to  remove  the 
cause  !  It  is  self-evident  to  every  disinterested  discerning  per- 
son, that  the  great  cause  of  infidelity  in  this  land,  as  well  as  in 
France,  is  the  unchristian  profaneness  and  profligate  lives  of 
the  clergy,  as  they  term  themselfs  ; — a  name  as  unfit  for  them 
as  any  set  of  profligates  within  the  bounds  of  space !  ! 

"And  it  is  most  deplorable,  that  men  of  great  ability  who 
have  sprang  up  among  the  laity  (as  the  clergy  in  the  height 
of  their  arrogance  call  them  !)  instead  of  exercising  their 
powers  to  overtlirow  the  hydra-headed  monster!  who  have 
been  the  cause  of  so  much  evil, —  for  the  sake  of  a  little  worldly 
popularity  and  patronage,  have  either  shamefully  deserted  the 
cause  of  truth  altogether,  by  joining  its  enemies  and  increabing 
the  mist  of  error, — or  contented  themselfs  with  attacking  its 
outposts,  while  the  citadel  have  stood  secure  and  unaliacked. 
Alas  !  alas !  how  will  these  men  answer  for  the  ten  talents 
committed  to  their  keeping !  !  What  a  noble  contrast  do  the 
names  of  Milton,  Locke,  &.c.  <fcc.  furnish,  when  compared  with 
the  above ! 

"  Now  I  consider  the  productions  of  your  pen  of  that  class 
which  have  only  attacked  the  outposts  of  infidelity  :  and  so 
far  have  you  been  from  meddling  with  the  citadel,  that  you 
have,  by  your  conduct,  even  upheld  it  (as  far  as  lay  in  your 
power).    It  is  true,  you  have  not  built  a  buttress  to  support  the 


ANONYMOUS  CENSURES. 


263 


toiering  fabric  ! !  but  by  attending  the  lectures  of  card-playing, 
ball-attending,  drunken  parsons,  you  have  given  the  weaiv  an 
example,  while  the  man  of  stronger  penetration  have  another 
plea  for  his  unbelief — or,  to  use  the  more  appropriate  language 
of  an  elegant  writer, 

'  The  weak,  perhaps,  are  mov'd,  but  are  not  taught ; 
While  prejudice  in  men  of  stronger  minds 
Takes  deeper  root,  confirm'd  by  what  they  see.' 

"  Perhaps  you  may  deny  my  hypothesis,  and,  consequently, 
ray  deductions.  But  I  appeal  to  the  writers  of  the  past  and 
present  ages,  against  Christianity,  as  an  evidence  to  the  truth 
of  my  assertions.  Have  not  their  greatest  plea  and  objection 
to  the  Christian  faith  been  the  immoral  conduct  of  many  of  its 
professors,  and  more  especially  the  pi-iests  established  by 
laic.'!  But  how  can  any  person  expect  you  to  write  against 
them  1  Was  not  the  Rector  of  Ruan-Lanyhorne  your  great 
patron,  and  recommender  to  the  '  Monthly  Reviewers  V  nay ! — 
did  he  not  write  that  pompous  '  Review'  of  the  production  of 
the  '  untutored  child  of  nature  V  Have  not  you  shaken  hands 
with  the  Vicar  of  Manaccan — that  great  champion  of  truth! — 
who  made  a  most  scandalous,  false,  malicious,  and  diabolical 
attack  on  the  Methodists,  and  was  silenced  by  you? — Has  he 
then  recanted  iiis  sentiments,  and  acknowledged  his  fault?  No! 
but  he  have  published  a  'Literary  History  of  Cornwall,'  and 
what  are  truth,  or  IMethodism,  when  put  in  competition  with 
liaving  a  name  among  the  literati  of  Cornwall?  Such  sub- 
stances dwindle  into  mere  shadows  when  there  is  another  step 
to  be  added  to  '  young  ambition's  ladder,'  especially  with  a  man 
who  has  not  deigned  to  let  the  world  know  he  is  a  Methodist ! ! 
But  a  concourse  of  ideas  rush  on  my  mind,  which  my  present 
sheet  forbids  doing  justice  to;  therefore,  I  end  my  general  re- 
marks, and  proceed  to  answer  your  observations  on  my  last. 

'"You  do  not  care,'  it  is  said,  'how  many  letters  you  re- 
ceive, if  the  postage  is  paid.'  I  answer,  you  need  not  concern 
yourself  on  this  head ;  for  1  positively  affirm,  you  shall  not  be 
put  to  any  expense  by  any  letter  from  me.  I  intended  to  have 
, enclosed  a  shilling  under  the  seal  of  this,  if  you  had  not  refused 
to  take  up  any  more  letters  unless  they  were  post-paid ;  which 
obliged  me  to  post-pay  this,  at  whatever  hazard  of  being  de- 
tected.—Under  the  seal  of  this  you  will  find  the  postage  of  the 
former,  with  interest. 

"  But  you  think  it  is  much  better  1  keep  the  money,  and  buy 
a  spelliag-book.    I  beg  leave  to  inform  you  that  I  have  a  suf- 


264 


LIFE  OF  SAMUEL  DREW. 


ficiency  for  that  purpose  after  paying  the  postage.  At  the  same 
time  it  excites  one's  admiration  to  hear  yon  objecting  to  a  letter 
because  there  is  a  small  error  in  the  spelling,  after  the  many 
elegant  epistles  you  have  received  from  a  certain  acquaintance 
of  yours  in  this  town,  who  cannot  sptll  a  word  of  only  five  or 
six  letters  correct ;  but  '  Praise  from  the  smutch'd  artificer  is  oft 
too  welcome,  and  may  much  disturb  the  bias  of  the  purpose.' 
But  though  I  do  not  pretend  to  be  a  perfect  orthographer 
or  philologist,  yet  I  can  detect  errors  in  doctrine,  though  sur- 
rounded by  the  sophistical  glare  of  philosophic  chicane.  There 
is  not  any  thing  in  these  letters  that  I  should  be  ashamed  of ;  for 

'  Who  noble  ends  by  noble  means  obtains, 
Or,  failing,  smiles  in  exile  or  in  chains, 
Like  good  Aurelius  let  him  reign,  or  bleed 
Like  Socrates, — that  man  is  great  indeed.' 

"An  Observek. 

"Mevagissey,  August  21st,  1810." 

A  young  preacher  complaining  one  day  that  he  had  received 
an  anonymous  letter,  censuring  his  pulpit  oratory, — "Don't 
heed  it,"  said  Mr.  Drew,  "  any  further  than  to  profit  by  its  ob- 
servations, if  true.  I  have  had  scores  of  such  letters  since  I 
became  an  author,  and  often  with  postage  to  pay.  They  never 
trouble  me,  and  I  generally  put  them  into  the  fire.  But  these 
letters  are  sometimes  of  use.  Our  good  qualities  we  may  learn 
from  our  friends ;  from  our  enemies  we  may  chance  to  dis- 
cover our  defects." 

It  was  seldom  that  Mr.  Drew's  benevolent  feelings  overcame 
his  judgment,  or  led  him  into  an  act  of  indiscretion  ;  yet  he 
was  not  infallible.  It  has  been  stated,  that  in  the  commence- 
ment of  his  authorship,  being  too  unguarded  in  his  remarks, 
he  was  threatened  with  an  action  for  libel.  On  a  subsequent 
occasion,  his  inherent  antipathy  to  arbitrary  power  led  him  into 
an  unpleasant  dilemma. 

A  wealthy  member  of  the  Wesleyan  society  at  St.  Austell 
had  been  charged  with  oppressive  conduct  in  some  temporal 
transactions :  and,  at  a  meeting  of  inquiry,  it  was  resolved,^ 
perhaps  too  precipitately,  that  he  should  no  longer  be  considered . 
a  member.  Instead  of  the  usual  oral  communication  in  such ' 
cases,  the  resolutions  of  the  meeting  were  committed  to  writing, 
signed  by  the  individuals  present,  and  sent  to  the  accused.  By 
this  mode  of  procedure  the  signing  parties  subjected  themselves 
to  an  action  at  law ;  and  a  legal  process  was  commenced 


HIS  PERSONAL  CHARACTER. 


265 


against  each.  Prompted  by  his  feelings,  Mr.  Drew  had  taken 
a  prominent  part  in  the  affair,  and  thus  rendered  himself  par- 
ticularly obnoxious  to  the  gentleman  whose  character  was  im- 
peached. As  the  only  condition  of  suspending  legal  proceed- 
ings, it  was  required  that  the  parties  should  pay  the  expenses 
already  incurred,  sign  a  paper  acknowledging  their  error,  and 
that  this  paper  should  be  read  by  Mr.  D.  in  the  public  congre- 
gation. With  these  conditions  it  was  judged  expedient  to 
comply. 

The  gentleman's  resentment  was  temporary.  An  explana- 
tion of  his  conduct  was  given, — the  right  hand  of  fellowship 
extended  on  either  side, — and  from  this  inauspicious  beginning 
commenced  a  greater  degree  of  intimacy  between  him  and  Mr. 
Drew  than  had  previously  subsisted. 


SECTION  XXVIII. 

Mr.  Drew's  candour  and  freedom  from  censoriousnesg — His  independence 
of  thought  shown  in  a  letter  to  Dr.  Adam  Clarke — His  catholic  spirit 
exemplified  in  a  public  address,  and  in  various  letters — His  pacific  dis- 
position.^ 

After  Mr.  Drew  had  become  known  as  an  author,  many  of 
the  Wesleyan  preachers,  on  their  first  appointment  to  St.  Aus- 
tell, fell  very  reluctant  that  he  should  hear  their  sermons.  From 
his  works  and  his  reputation,  previously  to  personal  acquaint- 
ance, they  dreaded  him  as  a  formidable  critic.  This  was  a  fear 
that  presently  subsided.  Never  was  there  a  more  candid 
hearer,  or  one  less  prone  to  pass  an  unkind  remark.  If  he 
noticed  any  thing  in  the  sermons  of  the  young  ministers  which 
he  thought  improper  or  erroneous,  it  was  to  themselves  only 
that  he  namecl  it,  and  always  in  such  a  way  as  to  win  their 
affection.  While  some  of  his  young  acquaintances  would  be 
censuring,  with  undue  freedom,  a  discourse  which  they  had 
heard,  or  discussing  the  respective  merits  and  demerits  of 
preachers,  he  would  smoke  his  pipe  in  silence,  or  interrupt  the 
regular  succession  of  puffs  by  an  occasional  note  of  disappro- 
bation. "  How  is  it,  Mr.  Drew,"  asked  one  of  the  critics, 
"  that  you  never  give  us  your  opinion  upon  these  matters  ?" — 
«'  I  will  tell  you,"  replied  he.  "  In  certain  instances,  when  I 
have  said  any  thing  of  the  kind,  my  remarks  have  been  propa- 


266 


LIFE  OF  SAMUEL  DREW. 


gated,  and  not  without  embellishment.  I  find  that  my  opinions 
are  quoted  as  indi.sputabie  authority;  and  therefore,  unless  they 
are  altogether  favourable,  I  refrain  from  expressing  them. 
They  would  only  lend  to  prejudice  tlie  people,  to  pain  the 
preacher's  mind,  and  mar  his  usefulness." — "  But  you  would 
not  blame  us,  would  you,  sir,  for  giving  our  opinions  ?" — "  I 
would  have  no  one  criticise  a  sermon  till  he  has  attempted  to 
preach  one.  After  you  have  addressed  a  congregation,  you 
will  better  understand  a  preacher's  sensations  and  difficulties. 
And  remember  this,  in  all  your  criticisms, — the  hand  that  can- 
not build  a  hovel  may  demolish  a  palace.''^ 

Although  thus  guarded  against  expressing  an  unfavourable 
opinion  of  any  individual,  he  felt  no  scruple  in  censuring  un- 
christian conduct,  exposing  unscriptural  doctrine,  or  maintain- 
ing what  he  believed  to  be  the  truth  ;  but  it  was  always  done 
with  reference  to  the  maxim,  "  Think,  and  let  think."  A  spirit 
of  intolerance  he  detested  ;  he  lamented  its  frequent  exhibition 
among  Methodists  as  well  as  others  ;  and  he  carried  his  aver- 
sion to  bigotry  so  far  that  some  of  the  strait-laced  brethren 
were  half-disposed  to  accuse  him  of  latitudinarian  principles. 
"  Nothing,"  said  he,  "  grieves  me  so  much,  as  to  see  professed 
ministers  of  the  gospel  of  peace,  whose  charity  has  been 
smothered  by  their  zeal,  going  about  with  the  tomahawk  and 
scalping-knife,  liberally  or  illiberally  dealing  out  destruction 
and  perdition  to  all  who  differ  from  them.  For  my  part,  I 
pray, 

«  Let  not  this  weak,  unknowing  hand 

Presume  thy  bolts  to  throw, 
And  deal  damnation  round  the  land 
On  each  I  judge  thy  foe.'  " 

In  accordance  with  the  sentiment  just  expressed  is  the  fol- 
lowing letter  to  Mr.  James  Grant,  editor  of  the  Elgin  Courier, 
then  a  contributor  to  the  Imperial  Magazine.  It  shows  Mr. 
D.'s  style  of  editorial  correspondence,  and  his  enlarged  views 
of  the  Divine  benignity. 

"  38  Newgate-street,  London, 
"  January  1st,  1827. 

"DuAR  Sir, 

"  t  have  not  yet  had  time  to  re-examine  your  essay  on  the 
'  Salvation  of  the  Heathen,'  but  hope  to  do  so  in  time  for  its 
appearance  after  the  '  Importance  of  Early  Piety'  is  in  print. 
The  first  part  is  in  our  number  for  January,  and  the  remainder 


HIS   PERSONAL  CHARACTER. 


267 


is  intended  for  February.  In  looking  over  your  letter  in  re- 
ply to  mine,  it  appears  that  you  found  your  conclusion  of  the 
final  perdition  of  the  heathen  on  your  not  being  able  to  per- 
ceive how  their  salvation  is  possible.  If  my  view  of  your 
statement  be  correct,  you  will  permit  me  to  hint,  that  your 
conclusion  is  not  legitimately  borne  out  by  your  premises. 
Your  not  being  able  to  perceive  how  the  heathen  can  be  saved 
is  simply  negative;  but  your  conclusion — therefore  they  must 
perish — is  jmsitice.  Now  no  negative  premises  can  support 
such  a  positive  conclusion;  and  an  attempt  to  force  the  infer- 
ence is  to  make  ignorance  the  basis  of  knowledge.  Not  being 
able  to  perceive  how  they  can  be  saved  will  warrant  you  in 
withholding  your  assent  to  tlieir  actual  salvation,  but  this  will 
not  furnish  you  with  a  fair  ground  for  concluding  that  there- 
fore they  are  lost. 

"  A  small  essay  on  the  final  condition  of  the  heathen,  written 
by  John  Burder,  M.A.,  price  one  shilling,  has,  within  a  few 
days,  fallen  into  my  hands.  In  this  pamphlet,  the  author, 
though  a  rigid  Calvinist,  pauses  ere  he  pulls  the  trigger  of  his 
theological  blunderbuss,  charged  with  reprobation,  and  candidly 
admits,  that  although  he  can  find  no  ground  for  their  salvation 
from  God  as  a  lawgiver,  a  judge,  or  simply  as  a  benevolent 
being,  yet  there  is  some  ground  for  hope  that  through  the  Di- 
vine mercy  some  may  be  saved.  1  allow  that  the  author 
draws  upon  tlie  Divine  mercy  as  a  miser  draws  upon  his  purse, 
yet  was  rather  surprised  that  his  creed  permitted  him  to  exer- 
cise such  an  extended  charity.  It  is  only  through  the  influ- 
ence of  that  'true  Light  which  ligiiteth  every  man  that  cometh 
into  the  world,'  that  their  salvation  can  at  all  be  admitted  on 
Scriptural  principles  ;  but  this  is  suflScient  for  every  purpose 
to  repel  the  severe  conclusion  that  all  must  be  inevitably  lost, 
or  that  the  salvation  of  all,  without  exception,  is  impossible. 
Happy  for  us,  my  friend,  that  God,  and  not  the  fabricators  of 
merciless  creeds,  is  to  be  the  judge  of  mankind  ;  for,  whatever 
our  views  may  be,  we  know  that  the  Judge  of  the  whole  earth 
will  do  right. 

*  *  *  *  * 

"  With  best  wishes  for  your  health  and  happiness  in  time, 
and  your  felicity  in  eternity, 

"  I  remain,  dear  sir, 

"  Yours  most  sincerely, 

Samuel  Drew." 


In  Mr.  Drew's  character,  independence  of  thought  and  fear- 


268 


LIFE  OF  SAMtJEL  DREW. 


lessness  of  expression  are  too  conspicuous  to  require  further 
proof;  yet  the  reader  may  be  gratified  by  their  exhibition  in 
the  following  letter  of  his  to  his  friend  Dr.  Adam  Clarke,  on 
returning  a  pamphlet  which  the  doctor  had  sent  for  his  perusal. 
The  title  of  the  pamphlet  is,  "  A  Sermon,  proving  that  Reason 
is  to  be  our  guide  in  the  choice  of  our  Keligion,  and  that  no- 
thing ought  to  be  admitted  as  an  Article  of  Faith  which  is  repug- 
nant to  the  common  principles  of  Reason,  or  is  unintelligible  to 
human  understanding.    It  bears  date  1714. 

"  15  Owcn's-row,  January  .5,  1831. 

"  My  dear  Doctor, 

"  I  have  perused  the  pamphlet  you  sent  me  with  much  inter- 
est, and  concur  with  you  in  opinion,  that  the  sentiments  which 
it  contains  are  strong,  luminous,  and  masculine  ;  and  that  they 
are  supported  by  a  chain  of  argumentation  the  links  of  which 
no  sophistry,  however  ingenious,  can  weaken.  Dogmatism  may 
envelop  them  in  clouds,  and  triumph  in  the  obscurity  which 
pretended  authority  can  raise  ;  but  the  fortifications  are  invul- 
nerable, and  will  remain  so  against  all  the  puny  efforts  with 
which  they  may  be  assailed. 

"  It  is  really  amusing  to  hear  men  assign  reasons  why  rea- 
son must  not  be  used,  and  to  argue  that  argument  on  given  topics 
must  be  laid  aside.  Where  reason  is  forbidden  to  enter,  we 
are  wholly  without  a  guide :  both  the  authority  and  interpre- 
tation of  Revelation  must  submit  to  this  test,  and  be  received 
or  rejected  according  to  its  decision.  On  these  and  other  simi- 
lar subjects  the  reasonings  of  the  author  of  the  pamphlet  are 
strong  and  conclusive  :  I  regret  that  his  name  is  not  known.  I 
should  mucii  like  to  see  it  in  print  ;  but  its  appearance  would 
raise  the  cry  of  heresy. 

"  I  have  sometimes  thought  that  certain  persons,  whom  I 
need  not  name,  indirectly  insinuate  that  Reason  is  an  enemy  to 
Revelation,  and  that  either  the  former  or  the  latter  must  be  dis- 
carded :  this  may  do  for  the  meridian  of  Italy  ;  but  I  hope  I 
shall  never  see  the  day  when  such  a  monstrous  proposition 
will  unfurl  its  standard  in  England.  We  cannot,  however, 
deny  that  reason  is  an  encumbrance  to  those  who  can  do  the 
best  without  it ;  and  of  these  perhaps  no  contemptible  number 
might  be  mustered.  It  is  pleasing  to  observe,  in  the  perusal 
of  this  sermon,  how  easily  a  few  well-directed  strokes  can  de- 
molish a  fabric  which  ignorance,  prejudice,  authority,  and  blind 
submission  have  conspired  to  raise. 


ALLEGORICAL  ADDRESS. 


269 


"  Wishing  yon  every  blessing  for  time  and  eternity,  I  re- 
main, my  dear  friend, 

'•  Yours  most  sincerely, 

"  Samuel  Drew." 

Mr.  Drew's  expanded  views  of  Christianity  cannot  have  es- 
caped observation.  Some  further  illustrations,  we  hope,  will 
not  be  thought  irrelevant  or  tedious. 

In  some  large  towns,  as  an  antidote  to  bigotry,  and  a  means 
of  fostering  a  liberal  spirit,  meetings  for  prayer  are  established, 
at  which  persons  of  difierent  religious  persuasions  join  in  the 
common  act  of  devotion.  Many  years  since,  Mr.  Drew,  when 
on  a  visit  to  Plymouth,  attended  one  of  these  "  Union  Prayer- 
meetings,"  and,  being  known  to  some  individuals  present,  was 
requested  to  deliver  an  address.  This  he  did  extemporane- 
ously, to  the  following  purport : — 

"  When  Truth,  which  was  a  native  of  the  celestial  regions, 
became  imbodied,  and  descended  from  heaven  to  visit  the  habi- 
tations of  men,  it  assumed  the  form  of  a  beautiful  cone.  The 
base  of  this  cone  rested  on  the  earth,  while  its  summit,  rising 
from  an  extensive  plain,  was  lost  in  the  clouds  ;  and  on  every 
side  it  was  illuminated  with  the  rays  of  the  Divine  glory.  The 
nations  of  the  earth,  struck  with  a  spectacle  so  magnificent  and 
splendid,  gazed  upon  it  with  astonishment ;  and,  being  enam- 
oured with  its  symmetry  and  lovely  appearance,  the  more  thought- 
ful and  serious  gathered  round  it  from  every  quarter,  by  an 
involuntary  impulse. 

"  Amid  this  assembly,  the  Independents  went  on  one  side, 
the  Baptists  on  a  second,  the  Quakers  on  a  third,  the  Episcopa- 
lians on  a  fourth,  and  the  Methodists  on  a  fifth ;  while  others 
stood  aloof  in  a  state  of  indecision. 

"  Pleased  with  the  magnificence  Avhich  operated  on  their 
senses,  they  all  remained  in  their  respective  positions,  without 
walking  round  the  sacred  figure  to  .survey  the  glories  which 
arose  from  the  harmony  of  all  its  parts.  In  every  view.  Truth 
has  its  beauties;  but  those  svhich  arise  from  a  survey  of  detached 
portions  are  less  brilliant  and  diversified  than  those  which  re- 
sult from  a*comprehensive  survey  of  the  whole  system.  No 
party,  however,  had  views  sufficiently  expanded  and  compre- 
hensive to  embrace  the  excellences  which  resulted  from  the  com- 
bined effect  of  all  ;  and  the  melancholy  disasters  which  followed 
were  the  fatal  consequences  of  this  contracted  observation. 
Z  2 


270 


LIFE  OF  SAMUEi  DREW. 


"  Unhappily,  in  this  state  the  selfish  passions  began  to  oper- 
ate ;  and  each  party,  willing  to  possess  a  prize  that  appeared 
to  be  of  inestimable  value,  seized  with  eagerness  the  portion  of 
Truth  that  was  nearest,  regardless  of  the  injury  resulting  from 
such  selfish  violence.  In  so  large  and  diversified  an  assembly,  it 
is  difhcult  to  say  by  which  party  the  assault  was  made.  But 
be  this  as  it  may,  the  outrage  which  was  begun  by  one  clas» 
was  succeeded  by  that  of  a  second,  and  continued  by  a  third, 
till  the  attachment  to  Truth  degenerated  into  a  fierce  contention, 
and  finally  involved  the  whole  company  in  indiscriminate  con- 
fusion. 

"  In  the  conflict  which  took  place  at  the  foundation  of  thi» 
cone,  the  injuries  it  received  became  conspicuous  ;  but  this,  in- 
stead of  causing  the  contending  parties  to  desist  from  commit- 
ting depredations  which  no  human  efforts  could  repair,  only 
stimulated  them  to  renewed  violence,  until  the  cone  of  Truth 
was  rifted  from  its  base  to  its  summit,  and  divided  into  splinters. 

"  On  beholding  the  fatal  effects  of  their  indiscretion,  the  par- 
ties determined  to  preserve  the  portions  that  had  fallen  to  their 
lot ;  and,  instead  of  being  overwhelmed  with  sorrow  at  their  folly, 
they  bore  in  triumph  to  their  respective  friends  such  fragments 
as  they  had  been  able  to  secure.  The  impulse  of  passion, 
however,  beginning  to  subside,  was  soon  followed  by  reflection  ; 
and  all  perceived  that  the  parts  which  had  been  obtained  were 
less  beautiful  than  the  cone  appeared  when  entire.  Deficiencies 
were  soon  discovered,  which  nothing  but  the  portions  that  had 
been  seized  by  others  could  supply.  But  since  these  could  not 
be  procured,  the  more  considerate  hastened  to  employ  their 
most  skilful  workmen,  who,  having  collected  a  quantity  of  un- 
tempered  mortar,  and  given  it  a  colour  resembling  the  original 
cone,  endeavoured  to  give  completion  to  the  fragments. 

"  The  cone  of  Truth  was  now  multiplied  into  many ;  and 
these  exhibited,  in  their  first  appearance,  such  incongruities, 
that  several  portions  were  twice  or  thrice  repaired  ;  and  so  badly 
executed  were  some,  that  in  process  of  time  they  were  aban- 
doned by  their  warmest  advocates.  Among  those  that  have 
survived,  several  have  undergone  great  alterations,  so  that  the 
mortar  which  was  primitively  supplied  retains  but  little  of  its 
original  shape,  consistence,  or  colour.  In  other  instances,  as 
some  features  of  peculiar  excellence  appeared  on  the  parts  of 
the  real  cone  which  had  been  preserved,  but  which  no  art 
could  imitate,  several  have  been  compelled  to  resort  to  the  dis- 
honourable expedient  of  throwing  over  Truth  itself  a  deceitful 
varnish,  that  uniformity  of  colour  might  appear,  even  though  it 
should  be  purchased  at  the  expense  of  integrity. 


ALLEGUKICAL  ADDKK83. 


271 


"  Since  this  melancholy  disaster  happened,  the  most  cele- 
brnted  artists  of  every  party  have  been  employed  in  polishing, 
in  painting,  in  burnishing,  and  in  giving  new  lustre  to  their 
respective  cones.  But,  notwithstanding  this  waste  of  time  and 
talent,  many  vacancies  still  appear  in  each,  which  no  ingenuity 
has  hitherto  been  able  to  supply.  Even  the  tints  of  colouring 
are  evidently  of  artificial  origin ;  and  tlie  more  judicious  of  each 
party  seem  to  concur  in  opinion,  that  the  imperfections  of  which 
all  are  conscious,  but  which  all  have  not  the  candour  to  avow, 
■will  never  be  wholly  removed,  until  the  untempered  mortar  and 
artificial  varnish  shall  be  totally  destroyed.  Could  this  desi- 
rable object  be  accomplished,  tliey  seem  fully  convinced  that 
the  protuberances  of  one  part  would  exactly  suit  the  excavations 
in  another ;  and  that,  could  every  thing  be  replaced,  the  cone 
would  once  more  resume  that  beautiful  appearance  with  which 
all  were  at  first  captivated. 

"  Influenced  by  these  enlarged  and  comprehensive  views,  a  few 
liberal  spirits  have  endeavoured  to  effect  this  object ;  but  they 
have  found,  on  making  inquiry  among  their  friends  and  adhe- 
rents, that  the  same  selfish  principles  which  originally  destroyed 
the  cone  are  still  at  work  ;  and  that  multitudes  contend,  although 
perfectly  satisfied  that  they  have  not  the  whole,  they  possess  a 
much  larger  share  than  others,  and  that  their  private  interests 
forbid  them  to  make  the  surrender  which  such  a  measure  re- 
quires. 

"  Unhappily,  this  is  not  the  greatest  difficulty  to  be  encoun- 
tered. When  the  untempered  mortar  was  first  mixed,  so  eager 
was  every  one  to  give  completion  to  his  cone,  that  little  or  no 
care  was  taken  to  avoid  those  finer  panicles  of  dust  which 
floated  in  the  atmosphere.  These  soon  affected  the  organs  of 
vision;  and  the  awful  consequence  is,  that  no  individual  has  yet 
been  discovered  blessed  with  sight  sufficiently  acute  and  pene- 
trating to  discern,  on  all  occasions,  where  the  parts  of  the  real 
cone  terminate,  and  where  the  untempered  mortar  actually  be- 
gins. Many,  by  the  assistance  of  glass<^s,  have  been  able  to 
discover  that  some  of  the  finer  parts  of  the  artificial  composi- 
tion are  so  intimately  combined  with  the  original  material,  that 
jby  attempting  to  remove  them,  an  additional  injury  will  be  done 
■p  the  real  cone,  which  may  ultimately  prevent  a  reunion  of  all 
■he  parts. 

"  "Under  all  these  circumstances,  the  opinion  of  the  wise  and 
judicious  seems  to  be,  that  although  some  considerable  masses 
may  be  entirely  removed,  and  the  different  parts  of  the  mutilated 
cone  be  brought  so  near  each  other  that  all  may  perceive  in 


372 


LIFE   OF  SAMUEL  DREW. 


what  way  they  originally  adhered  together,  yet  no  proper  ce- 
ment can  be  procured.  It  is  also  presumed,  that  hereafter  the 
parts  of  this  cone  will  be  taken  by  Almighty  power  from  the 
present  scene;  that  they  will  be  washed  in  the  water  of  life; 
that  the  parts  will  then  be  reunited  in  the  plains  of  heaven,  and 
placed  under  the  protection  of  angelic  guards.  And,  finally, 
that  the  wise,  the  virtuous,  the  pious,  and  the  holy,  of  every 
denomination,  who  have  manifested  a  strong  attachment  to 
Truth,  will  also  be  removed  to  the  celestial  regions,  and  placed 
among  the  angelic  throng.  These,  though  differing  from  each 
other  in  opinion  here,  will  learn  wisdom  by  what  they  have 
suffered  ;  and,  by  a  happy  concurrence  in  their  views,  now  more 
comprehensive  than  they  could  possibly  be  in  lii-ne,  will  take, 
with  pleasure,  a  survey  of  the  heavenly  spectacle  in  all  its 
parts  ;  and,  overwhelmed  with  admiration  at  its  harmonious 
symmetry,  will  admire  its  varied  beauties  with  renewed  rapture 
for  ever." 

Alluding,  in  a  letter  to  one  of  his  correspondents,  to  the  anni- 
versaries of  the  various  religious  and  charitable  institutions, 
Mr.  Drew  remarks,  "  For  this  diffusion  of  benevolent  feeling  we 
are  indebted  to  Christianity.  Under  any  other  system  we  seek 
in  vain  for  such  amiable  features  in  the  human  character.  It  is 
pleasing,  on  such  occasions,  to  behold  all  sects  and  parties  lay- 
ing aside  the  colouring  of  their  respective  creeds,  meeting  on 
ground  where  nothing  but  essentials  will  lake  root,  and  extend- 
ing to  each  other  the  hand  of  brotherly  love.  Before  these 
institutions  were  established,  we  saw  each  other  only  in  cari- 
cature, and  were  terrified  at  the  creatures  of  our  own  imagina- 
tions. But  these  anniversaries  have  stripped  the  scarecrow  of 
its  frightful  aspect ;  and  those  whom  we  fancied  to  be  monsters 
we  find  to  be  men.  Toleration  generates  faction,  and  uniformity 
begets  superstition.  Hence,  in  England  we  have  so  many  sects 
and  parlies,  and  in  papal  countries  such  a  crop  of  ridiculous 
absurdities.  But  no  comparison  can  be  made  between  them. 
The  former  calls  forth  our  mental  energies,  and  directs  us  to 
defend  the  frontiers  of  our  creeds ;  the  latter  paralyzes  the 
intellectual  powers,  and  throws  the  soul  into  a  state  of  torpor." 

In  1824,  Mr.  Drew's  eldest  daughter  was  united  in  marriage 
to  a  member  of  a  Baptist  church.  Their  design  having  been  '-. 
communicated  to  Mr.  D.,  he  observed  in  reply,  October,  1823, 
"When  I  first  heard  of  your  intentions,  I  had  my  fears  that  the 
dissonance  between  your  creeds  might  lend  to  disturb  the 
pleasing  hum  of  domestic  harmony  ;  but  I  am  fully  persuaded, 


HIS  PERSONAL  CHARACTER. 


273 


that  where  genuine  piety  predominates  over  theory,  this  will 
not  be  the  case.  I  have  lived  long  enough  to  see  the  imper- 
fections of  all  creeds  and  hypoiheses ;  and,  as  I  advance  in 
years,  1  find  myself  more  and  more  receding  from  infallibility. 
I  have  found  qiiestions  started  by  advocates  on  each  side, 
which  their  opponents  can  never  satisfactorily  answer:  and, 
quitting  the  dogmas  of  sect  and  party,  I  perceive  stability  in 
nothing  but  fearing  God,  working  righteousness,  and  relying 
for  salvation  on  the  mercy  of  God,  through  our  liOrd  Jesus 
Christ." 

Two  other  letters  of  Mr.  Drew's  prior  to  the  marriage  still 
further  exhibit  his  candour,  his  liberality,  and  his  religious 
opinions. 

"38  Newgate-street,  London, 
"  Jan.  7th,  1824. 

"  My  dear  Sir, 

•'By  your  brother  I  received  your  kind  letter,  and  also  the 
curious  specimens  of  antiquity  with  «  hich  it  was  accompanied. 
There  is  something  mournfully  pleasing  in  looking  back  on 
these  distant  periods  of  departed  time.  We  seem  to  live  in 
ages  which  we  never  saw,  to  invert  the  order  of  nature,  to 
cause  the  Roman  Cesars  to  pass  in  review  before  us,  and  even 
to  tread  the  margins  of  the  apostolic  age.  For  these  coins  be 
pleased  to  receive  my  sincerest  thanks. 

"  I  am  also  much  pleased  with  the  candid  avowal  of  your 
theological  sentiments.  In  the  general  statement  I  can  most 
heartily  concur,  though,  perhaps,  the  phraseology  of  party 
might  induce  us  to  call  the  same  things  by  different  names.  I 
am  not  about  to  analyze  even  a  single  expression ;  and  I  hope, 
that  should  future  days  bring  us  more  immediately  into  contact, 
you  will  never  find  me  forward  to  demolish  creeds,  or  attempt 
to  decide  imperiously  on  points  wliich  the  wisest  and  best  of 
men,  during  eighteen  hundred  years,  have  never  been  able 
finally  to  settle.  On  one  point  I  am  glad  to  have  your  opinion  ; 
namely,  a  disavowal  of  Antinomianism  both  in  theory  and  doc- 
trine. I  consider  it  as  one  of  the  most  noxious  weeds  that  ever 
infested  the  Christian  church.  Even  those  who  defend  it  are 
fcashamed  to  reduce  it  to  practice,  except  in  solitary  cases,  and 

these  they  are  condemned  as  acting  derogatory  to  the  Chria- 
kian  character. 

"  There  is  a  paradox  among  divines,  that  runs  thus  : — '  Faith 
justifies  without  works,  and  yet  fnith  icithout  works  will  not 
justify.^  This  exactly  accords  with  my  views.  The  worka 
which  accompany  justifying  faith  enter  not  into  our  justification 


274 


LIFE  OF  SAMUEL  DREW. 


before  God ;  and  yet  that  faith  which  has  no  connection  with 
works  is  not  justifying,  being  destitute  of  the  grand  character- 
istic by  which  it  is  distinguished  from  Antinornian  creduHty, 
and  is  known  to  be  genuine. 

"  With  best  wishes  for  your  future  happiness  and  prosperity, 
both  in  time  and  eternity, 

"  I  remain,  dear  sir, 

"  Yours  most  sincerely, 

"  Samuel  Drew. 

"  Mr.  John  Read,  Hchton." 

To  the  Same. 

"38  Newgate-street,  London, 
"  May  29,  1824. 

"My  dear  SfK, 

"  I  was  sorry  to  learn  from  your  brother,  and  also  from  your 
letter,  that  you  were  unwell ;  but  I  hoped  this  affliction  had 
been  removed,  until  a  letter  from  Anna  informed  me,  about  a 
fortnight  since,  that  your  health  was  by  no  means  re-established. 
We  know  that,  when  sanctified,  afflictive  visitations  are  bless- 
ings in  disguise ;  and  we  learn  from  them  many  instructive 
lessons  which  prosperity  can  never  teach.  This  advantage  I 
hope  will  be  yours,  and  then  the  pain  and  anxiety  which  you 
have  felt  will  be  abundantly  compensated. 

"  To  the  general  outline  of  your  theological  creed  I  can 
most  certainly  subscribe,  though,  perhaps,  in  some  explanations 
our  views  might  differ,  iiut  I  can  assure  you  that  1  view  par- 
ticular creeds  in  a  less  important  light  than  I  once  did  ;  and  I 
perceive,  as  I  advance  in  age,  my  notions  of  their  infalli- 
bility become  every  day  more  shaken.  The  sacred  pages 
contain  the  plan  of  salvation.  Jesus  is  the  only  way  to  the 
Father.  The  Holy  Spirit  is  the  mighty  agent  through  which 
alone  the  soul  is  transformed.  From  His  influence  every 
good  thought,  and  word,  and  work  proceeds ;  and  faith  in  the 
merits  of  tiie  Saviour  can  be  no  longer  genuine  than  while  it 
leads  to  practical  godliness.  These  and  a  few  other  particu- 
lars constitute  the  essentials  of  my  creed ;  and  subordinatej 
branches  I  give  to  the  men  who  J 

'  to  the  fierce  contention  bring  ^ 

Innumerable  force  of  spirits  armed.' 

"Tt  certainly  would  have  been  desirable,  if  you  and  my  dear 
Anna  had  been  taught  from  your  infancy  to  pronounce  your 


HIS  PERSONAL  CHARACTER. 


273 


Shibboleth  with  the  same  accent ;  but  this  has  not  been  the 
case,  and  every  one  knows  that  habits  long  cherished  cannot 
be  exchanged  for  others  without  some  mental  conflict.  I  hope 
that  the  punctilios  of  local  views  will  never  break  the  bond  of 
domestic  happiness  between  you.  While  the  love  of  God  oc- 
cupies the  heart,  and  practical  godliness  reigns  in  the  life,  there 
will  be  little  room  for  contention,  and  less  disposition  to  view 
non-essentials  through  a  maguifying-glass.  1  am  inclined  to 
think  that  there  is  not  a  point  on  which  Independents,  Baptists, 
and  Methodists  difler,  which  the  dispassionate  of  all  parties 
will  not  reduce  to  the  class  of  non-essentials ;  and  on  all  these 
we  should  do  well  to  take  the  good  old  patriarchal  advice — 
'See  that  ye  fall  not  out  by  the  way.'  Those  who  have  more 
religion  in  their  heads  than  in  their  hearts  are  generally  ready 
to  brandish  the  polemical  weapons  ;  and,  when  successful,  they 
rejoice  more  at  conquest  than  at  the  thought  of  having  advanced 
the  cause  of  truth.  In  London  I  find  that  there  is  far  more  in- 
tercourse between  the  different  sects  than  in  the  country.  In 
the  former,  though  the  partition-wall  is  not  demolished,  it  is  so 
reduced  that  men  on  eacli  side  can  shake  hands  with  one  an- 
other ;  while  in  the  latter,  the  Jews  have  still  scarcely  any  deal- 
ings with  the  Samaritans.  Be  it  your  and  my  care,  my  dear 
friend,  to  '  work  out  our  salvation  with  fear  and  trembling,' 
while  we  acknowledge  that  '  it  is  God  who  worketh  in  us  to 
will  and  to  do  of  his  own  good  pleasure.'  Hoping  that  this 
will  find  you  restored  to  your  accustomed  health  and  spirits, 
"  I  remain,  my  dear  sir, 

"  Yours  most  sincerely, 

"  Samfel  Drew." 

Constituted  as  society  is,  "  it  is  impossible  but  that  ofTences 
will  come  ;"  and  Mr  Drew,  notwithstanding  his  pacific  temper, 
had  not  learned  to  "  wear  armour  over  his  feelings."  But, 
whatever  apparent  incivilities  he  at  any  time  experienced,  he 
never  charged  upon  a  community  the  offensive  deportment  of 

I individuals.  When  the  Wesleyan  Book  Committee  refused  to 
bell  the  Imperial  Magazine,  though  he  felt  their  want  of  cour- 
Ksy  to  himself  as  editor,  he  felt  much  more  lest  Methodism 
nould  be  identified  with  a  measure  which  lie  esteemed  illiberal 
■id  injudicious.  If  the  admission  of  any  article  into  his  pages 
were  deemed  a  proof  either  of  his  hostility  to  the  Conference, 
or  of  his  becoming  the  instrument  of  a  party,  the  two  letters 
which  follow  will  show  how  hasty  was  the  conclusion. 


S76 


LIVK  OF  SAMUEL  DREW. 


"  38  Newgate-street,  London, 
"Aug.  16,  1831. 

"  My  good  Sir, 

"  When  your  letter  reached  London,  I  was  in  Cornwall, 
from  which  place  I  did  not  return  until  within  a  few  days  past; 
and  since  that  time  I  have  been  busily  employed  in  arranging 
•what  had  become  disordered,  and  answering  letters  accumulated 
during  my  absence. 

***** 

'^I  have  not,  I  can  assure  you,  been  an  indifferent  spectator 
of  the  late  commotions  in  tlie  Methodist  community  ;  and  I  sin- 
cerely regret  that  power  should  ever  usurp  the  dominion  of 
right.  In  my  official  situation,  however,  I  have  never  borne 
any  active  part  in  the  controversy,  nor  admitted  any  of  the 
belligerents  to  figure  in  our  pages.  Should  the  door  be  once 
opened  to  either  party,  to  shut  it  would  be  next  to  impossible ; 
and  our  pages  would  be  filled  with  polemics,  in  which,  perhaps, 
eight  out  of  ten  among  all  our  readers  would  feel  less  interest 
than  disgust. 

"I  can  most  sincerely  assure  you  that  this  consideration, 
my  advancing  age,  and  with  it  a  desire  to  live  in  peace  with 
all,  form  the  only  embargo  laid  upon  me.  I  have  endeavoured, 
in  my  official  capacity  as  editor,  to  keep  up  a  kind  of  armed 
neutrality,  and,  by  so  doing,  have  exposed  myself  to  suspicions 
from  each  party.  With  the  ecclesiastical  tory  I  am  viewed  as 
a  radical,  and  with  the  ecclesiastical  whigs  as  a  tory  in  dis- 
guise. I  find,  however,  that  I  have  enough  to  do  to  attend  to 
my  own  concerns,  and  walk  peaceably  '  along  the  cool, 
sequestered  vale  of  life.' 

"  The  '  Circular'  to  which  you  allude  I  do  not  recollect  ever 
to  have  seen  ;  and  of  the  books,  pro  and  con,  I  scarcely  ever 
catch  a  glimpse.  I  am  therefore  totally  ignorant  of  the  war- 
fare still  carried  on,  unless  by  accident  I  meet  with  a  partisan, 
and  then  I  find  his  statement  generally  tinctured  with  the  prin- 
ciples he  had  embraced.  I  have  occasionally  heard,  in  com- 
pany, the  word  radical  contemptuously  applied,  and  have  as 
invariably  noticed,  that  reproachful  epithets  are  not  arguments, 
and  that  the  charge  of  despotism  will  be  the  language  of  re-j 
taliation.  1 

"  Wishing  you  every  blessing  for  time  and  eternity,  1 
"I  remain,  my  kind  sir,  1 
"  Yours  most  respectfully  and  sincerely, 

"  Samuel  Drew. 

"  Mr.  Thomas  Garnett,  Leeds." 


HIS   PERSONAL  CHARACTER. 


277 


To  the  Same. 

"38  Newgate-street,  London, 
"Dec.  7,  1831. 

My  good  Sir, 

"  I  really  was  not  aware  that  you  expected  from  me  a  writ- 
ten reply  to  your  letter,  until  your  renewed  inquiries  gave  me 
the  information.  I  am  so  much  in  the  habit  of  answering  in- 
quiries in  '  replies  to  correspondents,'  that  I  sometimes  half 
forget  other  modes  of  communication.  In  our  last  number  I 
had  given  a  reply  to  you ;  but,  as  the  inquiries  are  again  re- 
newed, I  will  endeavour  briefly  to  answer  all. 

"  The  advertisement  of  the  '  Circular'  we  shall  not  hesitate 
to  insert  as  such  ;  but  in  the  polemic  contention  we  shall  bear 
no  part.  To  an  armed  neutrality  prudence  directs  me  rigor- 
ously to  adhere. 

***** 

" '  Are  Unitarians  Christians  ?'  Who  shall  decide  when 
doctors  disagree?  To  their  own  master  they  stand  or  fall. 
Much  will  depend  upon  the  definition  of  the  term  '  Christians.' 
To  questions  of  this  kind  there  is  scarcely  any  end.  We  may 
ask,  '  Are  heretics,  schismatics,  <fec.  Christians  ?'  If  we  put 
one  sect  to  decide  upon  the  destiny  of  others,  but  few  will  be 
permitted  to  enter  heaven.  For  hatchet-men  this  will  furnish 
ample  employment. 

'  One  thinks  on  Calvin  Heaven's  own  Spirit  fell ; 
Another  deems  him  instrument  of  hell.' 

"Every  person  who  has  noticed  passing  events  with  atten- 
tion must  have  observed,  that  red-hot  Arminians  anathematize 
Calvinists,  and  the  fiery  zealots  of  Calvinism  in  their  turn  con- 
sign Arminians  to  perdition !    I  do  most  sincerely  assure  you 
that  I  will  not  become  a  tool  in  the  hands  of  either  party.  I 
,     would  do  any  thing  in  my  power  to  promote  peace ;  but,  if  war 
I    has  determined  them,  they  will  be  easily  able  to  bring  auxilia- 
^  ties  into  the  field ;  and  when  they  have  tired  themselves  with 
■  worrying  each  other,  they  will  be  just  where  they  began. 

"  Wishing  the  contending  parties  more  of  the  Christian 
^npirit  than  controversies  in  general  display,  and  you  every 
^^■lessing  for  time  and  eternity, 

"  I  remain,  with  much  respect, 

"  Yours  most  sincerely, 
Y  "Samuel  Dkevt. 

r       "  Mr.  Thomas  Garnett,  Leeds." 


Aa 


378 


LIFB  OP  SAMUEL  DREW. 


SECTION  XXIX. 

Miscellaneous  traits  of  character — Conversational  talent*. 

The  lines  of  the  human  countenance  admit  of  endless  va- 
riety. We  may  enumerate  those  settled  features  which  are 
common  to  the  species, — we  may  describe  the  shape  of  a  nose, 
the  colour  of  an  eye,  the  dimensions  of  a  mouth,  the  hollow- 
ness  or  prominence  of  a  cheek  ;  but  that  which  gives  expres- 
sion to  the  whole,  and  without  which  we  sketch  but  a  formal 
and  rigid  outline,  bids  defiance  to  our  powers  of  arrangement 
and  description.  This,  which  is  true  of  the  countenance,  is 
equally  applicable  to  the  character.  The  touches  which  give 
individuality  to  a  portrait  cannot  be  placed  in  categorical  order. 
To  delineate  perfectly,  it  is  not  enough  to  give  the  prominent 
characteristics, — the  biographer  must  "  catch  the  manners  living 
as  they  rise,"  and  transfer  them  to  his  pages.  In  Mr.  Drew's 
mental  constitution  there  were  some  peculiarities  which  it  would 
be  difficult  to  classify,  and  we  therefore  present  them  without 
studied  arrangement. 

It  has  been  already  observed,  that  he  was  a  great  lover  of 
order,  and  extremely  sensitive  of  little  deviations  from  it.  When 
questioned  as  to  the  cause  of  his  punctiliousness  in  matters 
of  small  moment,  his  reply  was,  "  The  sum  of  life  is  com- 
posed of  trifles."  The  general  tone  of  his  mind  was  cheerful- 
ness and  equanimity  ;  yet  there  were  seasons  when  he  felt  a 
depression  of  spirits,  and  yielded  to  gloomy  forebodings.  Such 
periods,  however,  were  of  short  duration.  His  natural  vigour 
and  elasticity  of  thought  quickly  restored  the  equilibrium. 

Lofty  characters  are  not  without  their  foibles  ;  and  it  is  some- 
times both  amusing  and  instructive  to  notice  the  antipath' 
and  partialities  of  individuals.    We  have  seen  a  man  shudder 
at  the  sight  of  a  mouse,  whose  heart  would  have  beat  with  th 
ardour  of  contest  at  the  approach  of  an  enemy  ;  and  we  ha 
heard  a  female  shriek  at  the  unexpected  intrusion  of  a  spid 
who  has  sat  unmoved  in  the  perils  of  a  tempest.    Of  the  s 
pent  tribe  Mr.  Drew  liad  an  instinctive  abhorrence.    A  stuffe 
specimen  in  a  museum  he  could  not  look  upon  without  very 
uncomfortable  feelings  ;  and  from  a  living  sijake  or  viper  that 


HIS  rKKSONAX  CHARACTER. 


279 


rustled  in  a  hedge  he  has  been  seen  to  run  with  the  utmost  pre- 
cipitation. The  writer  remembers  with  what  an  expression  of 
horror  his  father  ordered  him  to  take  instantly  from  his  sight 
some  living  vipers  which  he,  when  a  youth,  had  caught,  and 
brought  home  in  triumph.  Yet  a  toad,  which  is  more  com- 
monly an  object  of  repugnance,  he  would  take  in  his  hand,  with- 
out scruple,  to  admire  its  brilliant  eye  ;  and  the  whole  genus 
enjoyed  his  favour  and  protection. 


There  are  few  sensitive  minds,  however  fortified  by  faith  and 
hope,  that  do  not  shudder  when  they  dwell  upon  the  pain  of 
dying  and  the  process  of  dissolution.  Mr.  Drew  was  far  from 
affecting  an  apathy  which  he  did  not  feel  ;  and  his  expressions, 
when  alluding  to  death  and  the  grave,  are  proofs,  not  of  mental 
weakness,  or  a  want  of  Christian  fortitude,  but  of  his  partici- 
pating largely  in  the  sympathies  and  sensations  of  our  common 
nature.  Not  unfrequently  did  he  say,  "  Whatever  stoicism 
others  may  pretend  or  experience,  I  feel  the  lying  in  the  cold 
grave,  uiilieeded  and  unknown,  to  be  a  thing  from  which  my 
nature  revolts.  It  is  only  religion  that  can  enable  me  to  face  it, 
and  even  then  I  do  it  with  trembling,  and  look  with  awe  and 
dread  upon 

'  That  gulf,  from  which  no  mortal  e'er  repassed, 
To  tell  what's  doing  on  the  other  side.'  " 

When  filled  with  the  inspiring  anticipations  of  future  bless- 
edness, we  may  overlook  the  gloomy  valley  through  which  we 
must  pass  to  its  enjoyment ;  yet,  when  we  dwell  upon  the 
scenes  of  the  sick-cliamber — the  tears  of  kindred — the  sorrow- 
ful farewell — the  sinking  and  perhaps  agonized  frame, — and 
then,  in  imagination,  view  the  mournful  ceremony  of  inhuming 
the  body,  and  the  progress  of  its  subsequent  corruption, — we 
cannot  repress  our  instinctive  feelings  of  repugnance.  With 
difficulty  can  we  conceive  that  this  wondrous  structure,  in  which 
life's  vigorous  pulses  plaj',  will  become  utterly  insensible  : 
we  sympathize,  in  anticipation,  with  our  lifeless  remains,  and 
invest  ihem  with  a  portion  of  our  present  uncomfortable  sensa- 
tions. Thus,  in  a  sense  which  perhaps  Gray  did  not  contem- 
plate, 

"  Even  from  the  tomb  the  voice  of  nature  cries, 
Even  in  our  ashes  live  their  wonted  fires  !" 


The  force  of  local  attachment  felt  by  Mr.  Drew  has  been 


280 


LITE  OF  SAMUEL  DREW. 


variously  exemplified.  Perhaps  it  never  appeared  truer  to  na- 
ture than  when  he  passed  tliose  spots  which  were  the  haunts 
of  his  infancy  and  boyhood.  "  Here,"  he  would  say,  "  is  the 
house  where  I  was  born,  and  the  stream  in  which  I  used  to 
dabble  because  1  did  not  like  dry  feet — there  the  stamping-mill 
and  biuldle-pits  where  I  once  worked — there  the  trees  which 
I  was  foremost  to  climb, — and  here"  (scrutinizing  and  pointing 
out  all  llie  changes  which  time  and  the  hand  of  improvement 
had  efiectcd)  "  here,  after  the  day's  work  was  ended,  I  and  my 
companions  would  regularly,  on  summer  and  moonlight  even- 
ings, assemble  to  play."  On  one  of  his  visits  to  Cornwall, 
when  the  tide  of  early  recollections,  which  had  been  long  pent 
up,  rushed  upon  him  anew,  he  spent  a  cronsiderable  lime  in 
searching  among  the  woods  at  Tregrehan  for  the  tree  on  which, 
when  a  boy,  he  had  carved  the  rude  initials  of  his  name.  Lit- 
tle, indeed,  is  he  to  be  envied  whose  bosom  does  not  glow,  and 
whose  pulse  does  not  quicken,  when,  after  years  of  absence,  he 
revisits  the  scenes  of  his  infancy  and  his  youth. 

"  Dear  is  that  spot  to  which  the  soul  conforms. 
And  dear  those  hills  that  lift  us  to  the  storms." 

In  conversation  with  a  gentleman  a  few  weeks  before  his  final 
removal  from  London,  Mr.  Drew's  partiality  to  the  county 
which,  gave  him  birth  was  distinctly  marked.  "  You  may," 
said  he,  "  call  it  prejudice,  or  call  it  what  you  please — that 
will  not  alter  the  feeling, — but  I  have  made  up  my  mind  to  re- 
turn to  Cornwall  to  spend  the  evening  of  my  days,  and  lay  my 
bones  in  my  native  soil.  Here  you  will  perceive  that  judgment 
and  feeling  are  at  variance  ;  for  when  we  come  to  examine  and 
consider  the  subject,  dear  me,  it  is  no  matter  where  this  body 
should  be  buried,  or  what  should  become  of  it — 

'  If  these  remains  in  ocean's  depths  were  lost, 
Or  warring  winds  the  vagrant  atoms  tossed.' 

Still,  I  feel  so  great  an  attachment  to  the  place  of  my  birth,  and 
so  great  a  desire  to  mingle  my  ashes  with  those  of  my  kindred, 
— for  my  father,  my  mother,  my  brother,  my  child,  and  my  dear 
wife  lie  there, — that  if  I  thought,  by  staying  in  London,  I  should 
die  and  be  buried  here,  I  would  not  remain  twenty-four  hours 
longer — no,  that  I  would  not." 

With  local  attachments  personal  recollections  were  mtimately 
associated ;  and,  when  recounting  his  ciiildish  exploits,  the  un- 
bidden tear  would  sometimes  start  at  the  remembrance  of  play- 


HIS  PERSONAL  CHARACTER. 


281 


mates  long  since  dead.  Lamenting  one  day  the  levelling  of 
the  graves  and  removing  of  liic  tombstones  in  the  cliurchyard 
of  St.  Austell,  he  said,  "  They  have  taken  away  poor  Pascoe's 
stone  too.  It  used  to  stand  near  the  eastern  gate,  and  I  could 
never  pass  it  without  pausing  to  gaze  upon  that  sole  memorial 
of  my  earliest  friend." 

Though  not  the  same  feeling,  yet  it  was  the  same  kindly 
temperament  which  gave  him  such  pleasure  in  the  society  of 
his  children,  and  made  him  delight  in  ministering  to  their  grati- 
fication. Christmas-eve  was  a  season  of  peculiar  enjoyment, 
when  he  could  amuse  and  instruct  the  little  folks  with  his  tales, 
and  cast  his  eye  around  the  semicircle  of  smiling  faces.  On 
that  night,  even  the  youngest  was  expected  to  be  present,  to 
complete  the  happy  domestic  group.  In  nutting  expeditions, 
aquatic  excursions,  and  picknick  parties,  he  was  always  ready 
to  join,  wlien  time  would  permit,  nor  did  age  at  all  diminish  his 
relish  for  such  natural  pleasures.  During  his  visit  to  Corn- 
wall, in  1831,  he  joined  his  children  and  grandchildren  on  two 
or  three  such  occasions,  and  entered,  with  youthful  glee,  into 
liieir  subjects  of  merriment. 

With  a  disposition  thus  eminently  social,  it  will  scarcely  be 
credited  that  he  had  no  ear  for  music,  unless  it  were  the  music 
of  the  groves.  By  him  the  sublimest  composition  and  the  most 
delicate  execution  would  have  been  little  appreciated  or  felt. 
Rural  sounds  gratified  him,  rather  from  their  associations  than 
from  any  perception  of  harmony  ;  for  the  carol  of  the  lark  and 
the  clamour  of  a  rookery  were  to  him  equally  delightful.  Yet, 
however  deficient  in  auricular  discrimination,  with  the  utmost 
truth  and  propriety  he  might  have  said, 

"  But  cawing  rooks,  and  kites  that  swim  sublime 
In  still  repeating  circles,  screaming  loud. 
The  jay,  the  pie,  and  e'en  the  boding  owl 
That  hails  the  rising  moon,  have  charms  for  me:" 

for  his  soul  was  attuned  to  the  sublime  rather  than  the  beauti- 
ful ;  and  above  every  other  his  favourite  music  was 

"  The  dash  of  ocean  on  its  winding  shores." 

About  two  years  since,  a  lady  asked  Mr.  Drew  whether  he 
thought  it  wrong  for  a  person  who  felt  very  great  pleasure  in 
good  music,  to  go  to  such  a  place  as  the  theatre,  to  hear  Paga- 
A  a  2 


282 


LIFE  OF  SAHVfL  DREW. 


nini  play  the  violin.  "  I  am  the  worst  person  in  the  world  ol 
whom  you  should  ask  such  a  question,"  replied  he;  "for  I  take 
no  pleasure  in  music,  and  feel  no  gratificaiion  in  the  best  per- 
formances. As  to  myself,  I  would  not  step  across  the  room 
to  hear  Paganini,  or  all  the  ninnies  in  the  world.  I  would 
keep  to  the  good  old  maxim,  'Touch  not,  taste  not,  handle  not.' 
I  would  rather  a  person  would  not  go  lo  the  theatre  at  all." — 
"But  suppose  a  person  were  to  be  in  London,  who  felt  exces- 
sively delighted  witli  good  music,  on  the  violin  especially,  and 
was  so  circumstanced  that  he  could  hear  Paganini  at  no  other 
place  than  the  theatre  during  his  stay  ;  sliould  you  object  to  his 
gratifying  his  taste  in  a  theatre  ?" — "  Under  such  circumstances 
I  might  say,  with  a  less  fallible  moralist,  '  Neitlier  do  I  condemn 
thee.'  " — "  Perhaps  you  would  say  also,  '  Go,  and  sin  no 
more.'  " — "  I  left  that  for  you  to  infer,"  was  the  reply. 

Although  thus  usually  indiflerenl  to  harmonious  sounds,  yet 
the  piece  named  Denmark,  appropriated  to  Dr.  Walts's  beauti- 
ful paraphrase  of  the  hundredth  Psalm,  and  a  tune  composed 
by  one  of  his  family  for  the  no  less  beautiful  hymn  of  Dr. 
Watts, 

"  There  is  a  land  of  pure  delight,"  &c., 

and,  in  compliment  to  Mr.  Drew,  bearing  the  name  of  his  native 
town,  pleased  him  so  much  that  he  would  frequently  request 
his  youngest  daughter  and  son-in-law  to  sing  them  to  him,  and 
would  even  attempt  some  notes  in  concert.  But  it  is  probable 
that  the  gratificaiion  arose  quite  as  much  from  the  poetry  as 
the  music. 

Some  professors  of  craniology  once  asked  permission  to  ex- 
amine his  head,  and  he  very  readily  submitted  to  their  inspec- 
tion. Having  completed  their  examination,  one  of  them  said, 
"  You  are  very  fond  of  music,  Mr.  Drew,  and  have  a  good 
taste  for  it  too  !"  For  some  time  he  offered  no  contradiction, 
amusing  himself  at  observations  so  wide  of  the  mark.  At 
length  he  replied,  "  Gentlemen,  you  are  quite  in  error.  I  have 
neither  taste  nor  relish  for  music  ;  and  am  so  ignorant  of  it,  as 
a  science,  that  I  can  scarcely  distinguish  one  tune  from  an- 
other." Unwilling  to  be  thus  completely  at  fault,  they  ventured 
another  guess,  which  was  much  nearer  the  truth.  "If  it  be 
not  music,  it  must  be  poetry,  sir,  to  which  you  are  so  partial." 
To  this  he  signified  his  assent.  If  he  wanted  an  car  for  music, 
he  had  music  in  his  smtl.  His  conceptions  were  poetical,  and 
his  language,  even  on  ordinary  occasions,  highly  figuratire- 


CONVERSATIONAL  TALENTS, 


283 


He  was  a  great  admirer,  too,  of  poetical  composition,  and, 
thougli  it  was  otherwise  predicted  from  his  incipient  attempts, 
he  would  possibly,  in  this  department  of  literature,  had  it  en- 
gaged his  attention,  have  risen  above  mediocrity. 

In  his  latter  years,  when  not  inclined  to  take  the  trouble  of 
comniiiling  to  memory  pieces  of  poetry  that  struck  his  fancy, 
he  used  to  give  them  to  his  youngest  daughter  to  learn,  that  she 
might  repeat  them  to  him  in  the  evenings.  This  he  did  more 
especially  after  the  death  of  his  wife ;  and  it  appeared  to  him 
a  consolation,  in  the  absence  of  the  companion  of  his  life,  to 
listen  to  the  accents  of  her  representative,  as  she  recited  to 
him  the  chosen  pieces  of  his  favourite  poets.  Although  he  had 
enriched  his  memory  with  some  of  the  more  sublime  passages 
of  Milton,  yet  Pope,  Young,  and  Cowper  chiefly  furnished  him 
with  the  quotations  which  he  delighted  to  use ;  and  their  lines 
would  frequently  increase  the  poignancy  of  his  satire  when  he 
lashed  the  follies  of  mankind,  give  an  additional  grace  to  the 
cheerful  sallies  of  his  wit,  enable  him  to  turn  a  compliment 
with  delicacy,  or  add  a  beauty  and  a  charm  to  the  natural 
elegance  and  power  of  his  language. 


Familiarly  acquainted  with  the  ordinary  topics  of  literary 
and  philosophical  discussion,  possessing  much  native  humour, 
a  remarkable  facility  of  illustration,  and  a  memory  stored  with 
anecdote,  upon  which  he  could  draw  at  pleasure  without  the 
hazard  of  insolvency,  it  is  not  surprising  that  Mr.  Drew's  so- 
ciety was  much  courted,  and  that  he  was  often  tlie  life  of  a  social 
party.  In  his  conversational  remarks,  profound  thought,  high 
moral  feeling,  and  playful  fancy  were  agreeably  blended.  A 
gentleman  who  knew  him  in  the  early  period  of  his  authorship 
says,  "  In  company  with  Mr.  Drew,  we  juniors  would  some- 
limes  get  bewildered  in  a  cloudy  discussion,  to  which  he  seemed 
a  mere  idle  listener.  When  we  could  make  no  further  progress, 
he,  by  asking  one  of  the  contending  parties  a  question,  or 
making  a  brief  remark,  would  either  set  us  right,  or  ohow  us 
liie  absurdity  of  our  arguments.  And  this  was  done  without 
any  apparent  effort  of  thought ;  for  he  seemed  to  look  through 
the  matter  intuitively  from  beginning  to  end." 

A  mixed  company  is  rarely  attracted  by  such  subjects  as  Mr. 
Drew  was  most  accustomed  to  discuss  ;  yet  there  are  few  more 
pointed  instances  of  a  speaker's  power  to  fix  the  attention  than 


284 


LIFE  OF  SAMUEL  DREW. 


one  related  by  the  Rev.  Dr.  Townley,  and  confirmed  by  another 
gentleman  of  the  party. 

"  Mr.  Drew  having  visited  a  town  where  I  was,  to  plead  the 
cause  of  a  charitable  institution,  we  were  invited,  with  several 
other  friends,  to  dine  at  a  gentleman's  house.  While  seated  at 
dinner,  I  asked  Mr.  Drew  why  his  metaphysical  writings  were 
more  perspicuous  and  satisfactory  than  those  of  other  meta- 
physicians. '  I  cannot  tell,'  he  replied,  '  unless  it  be  that  I 
iiave  not  attempted  to  establish  my  propositions  by  unsuitable 
or  unquestionable  evidence,  or  demanded  for  my  pr6ofs  a  higher 
degree  of  credit  than  they  are  worth.'  Then,  in  the  most 
pleasing  and  luminous  manner,  without  the  least  afl'ectalion  of 
superiority,  he  described  tlie  various  kinds  of  evidence  of 
which  subjects  are  susceptible — commencing  with  possibility, 
and  passing  liirough  the  successive  gradations  of  proof  to 
mathematical  demonstration.  So  happily  was  this  most  un- 
promising topic  illustrated  and  explained,  and  such  was  the  su- 
periority of  7nind  over  matter,  that  before  the  speaker  had 
uttered  many  words,  knives  and  forks  were  involuntarily  laid 
down,  and  though  the  remarks  occupied  about  a  quarter  of  an 
hour,  no  one  thought  of  resuming  them  until  Mr.  D.  had  thus 
fully  answered  tiie  question  which  1  had  proposed."  He  who 
could  thus  cause  a  large  company  to  forget  the  demands  of  ap- 
petite must  have  possessed  more  than  ordinary  powers  of  con- 
versation. 

Mr.  Drew  never  misapplied  his  strength  of  intellect  by 
contending  for  victory  rather  than  truth,  or  endeavouring  to 
"  make  the  worse  appear  the  better  reason."  To  puzzle  an  op- 
ponent he  exceedingly  disliked.  'J'here  was  a  straight-for- 
wardness, not  only  in  his  general  conduct,  but  even  in  his  man- 
ner of  arguing,  that  would  brook  nothing  like  an  attempt  to 
conceal  the  truth ;  and  it  was  sometimes  amusing  to  observe 
how  readily  he  would  detect  an  antagonist's  false  principles, 
however  specious  in  their  showing,  or  carefully  kept  in  the  back- 
ground. "He  reasoned,"  observes  a  gentleman  who  was  fre- 
quently in  his  company,  "not  only  convincingly  but  on  the 
right  side.  On  any  side  he  would  have  been  a  formidable  ad- 
versary;  no  wonder,  therefore,  that  in  the  cause  of  truth  he 
was  invincible." 

There  is  another  trait  in  his  character  which  ought  not  to  be 
overlooked.  In  no  single  instance,  that  we  are  aware  of,  did 
he,  in  colloquial  discussion,  betray  an  undue  warmth  of  temper 


CONVERSATIONAL  TALENTS. 


285 


— not  even  when  the  doctrines  which  he  had  publicly  advocated 
were  most  unceremoniously  assailed.  It  was  his  frequent  re- 
mark, that  the  weak  parts  of  a  creed  are  generally  guarded  by 
anathemas.  Rarely  could  he  be  accused  of  substituting  asser- 
tion for  argument,  or  vehemence  for  illustration. 

Let  it  not  be  supposed,  that  because  Mr.  Drew  shone  as  a 
metaphysician,  metaphysics  were  always  the  burden  of  his 
friendly  conversations.  "  Such,"  remarks  the  gentleman  whose 
words  we  have  just  quoted,  and  who  speaks  from  personal  ob- 
servation,— "such  was  not  Mr.  Drew.  Desirous  of  suiting  his 
conversation  to  the  capacities  and  circumstances  of  those  into 
whose  company  ho  was  thrown,  an  obliging  freeness  of  com- 
munication rendered  him  at  once  the  delight  and  oracle  of  the 
social  circle.*  He  evinced  an  agreeable  facility  in  seizing  on 
the  passing  topic,  on  which  he  was  sure  either  to  cast  additional 
light,  or  give  the  current  of  observation  some  new  and  interest- 
ing turn.  Anxious  to  hear  him  talk,  company  sometimes  un- 
fairly pressed  for  his  opinions.  On  this  account,  his  hours  of 
cessation  from  professional  labour  were  not  always  those  of  re- 
laxation." 

Though  delighted  to  mix  with  those  individuals  from  whose 
stores  of  knowledge  he  might  enrich  his  own,  yet  he  did  not 
like,  wiien  desirous  of  unbending  his  mind  in  the  society  of 
friends,  to  be  baited  and  worried,  as  he  sometimes  was,  by  par- 
adoxes and  perplexing  questions.  This  was  a  tax  upon  his 
good-nature  which,  thougfi  rarely  evaded,  was  paid  rather  from 
courtesy  than  choice.  He  was  best  pleased  to  follow  the  or- 
dinary course  of  useful  conversation,  and  occasionally  throw 
in  some  of  his  own  happy  touches  and  illustrations.  Some- 
times, indeed,  he  would  spontaneously  take  up,  as  a  text,  some 
expression  which  had  been  casually  dropped, — dilate  upon  it — 
view  it  in  its  various  bearings — pursue  it  to  its  remote  conse- 
(juences — and  unconsciously  gratify  and  engage  the  attention 
of  his  friends  by  continuous  remarks  (if  half  an  hour's  dura- 
tion. A  gentleman  recently  informed  the  writer,  that  he  was 
witness  to  an  instance,  about  the  year  1804,  in  which  some  one 
having,  hi  Mr.  Drew's  company,  accidentally  struck  a  chord  to 

♦  The  Bard  of  Sheffield,  at  the  close  of  a  letter  to  Mr.  Drew  in  1825, 
writes,  "  Permit  me  to  add,  that  I  recollect,  with  great  pleasure,  a  brief 
interview  with  you  at  Liverpool,  some  years  ago,  at  Mr.  Byrom's.  You 
may,  perhaps,  not  have  forgotten  it.    Ever  since  I  have  felt  myself  to  be 
nly  your  friend, 

"Jambs  Montgomskt." 


286 


LIFE  OF  SAMUEL  DREW. 


which  his  inmost  soul  vibrated,  he  entered  at  once  upon  the 
subject — a  completely  abstract  one — and  delivered  his  thoughts 
on  it  for  two  successive  hours,  with  scarcely  any  interruption 
or  intermission.  Still  he  greatly  disliked  being  dragged  into  a 
discussion  ;  and  when  this  was  attempted  by  individuals  with 
whom  he  could,  without  incivility,  use  the  freedom,  he  would 
remark,  "  1  do  not  want  to  be  set  at  work,  but  to  enjoy  a  holy- 
day."  To  the  members  of  his  family  he  has  said,  "  I  have  often 
refused  an  invitation,  where  I  had  reason  to  believe  I  should  be 
looked  upon  as  the  lion  of  the  company,  and  expected  to  ex- 
hibit for  their  gratification." 

The  following  letters  will  perhaps  be  accepted  as  a  further 
illustration  of  Mr.  Drew's  personal  character,  and  a  fitting 
termination  of  tliis  imperfect  sketch. 

"  St.  Austell,  July  29th,  1809. 

Mv  DEAR  Friend, 

"  How  is  it  that  your  letters  are  all  tinctured  with  an  air  of 
melancholy  and  sadness  ?  I  perceived  it  in  the  first  letter  you 
sent  me — questioned  you  upon  it  when  I  saw  you — and  now 
find  it  again  renewed,  without  being  able  in  either  stage  to 
discover  the  cause.  To  cherish  this  propensity,  you  well 
know,  is  not  the  way  to  be  a  true  disciple  of  Zeno.  No  doubt 
the  ills  of  life  have  occasionally  strewed  your  path  with  thorns  ; 
but,  when  you  contrast  them  with  the  blessings  5'ou  enjoy,  you 
must  acknowledge  that  you  have  more  occasion  for  gratitude 
than  complaint.  Remember  that  none  but  children  will  fall 
over  straws.  Every  person  is  called  to  struggle  with  adver- 
sity :  it  is  a  condition  of  our  existence ;  and  if  all  were  to 
measure  their  portion  by  what  you  sufl'er,  it  would  require  a 
large  asylum  to  hold  the  alHicted.  I  am  not,  however,  friendly 
to  inconsiderate  levity ;  it  dissipates  the  mind,  and  renders  it 
as  unfit  for  sober  thouglit  as  gloom  does  for  social  converse. 
There  is  a  happy  medium  between  these  two  extremes,  which 
fits  us  fur  every  department,  and  ennobles  human  nature. 

"  I  am  really  pleased  with  your  description  of  tlie  poor  old 
man, 

'  Whose  trembling  limbs  had  borne  him  to  your  door,'  I 

and  with  those  fine  and  varied  feelings  to  which  his  venerable 
appearance  gave  rise.  Your  notices  are  minute,  your  details 
ample,  and  the  features  well  discrinainated.  Yet  in  all  me- 
ihought  I  saw 


CHARACTERISTIC  LETTERS. 


287 


'  The  poet's  eye  in  a  fine  phrensy  rolling.' 

You  have  learned,  I  perceive,  to  enhance  your  charities  by  the 
manner  in  which  you  bestow  them. 

"  You  really  made  me  smile  when  I  perused  that  part  of 
your  letter  which  related  to  myself.  I  should  like  to  have 
heard  you  proposing  questions,  and  making  inquiries,  which 
none  in  company  could  answer  so  well  as  yourself.  As  to  the 
little  tale  which  your  sister  has  heard  of  a  gentleman  calling 
on  me  for  a  book  which  he  had  previously  seen,  but  thought  I 
did  not  understand,  it  is  all  fabulous — no  such  thing  ever 
e.xisted.  My  life  has  furnished  but  little  variety.  That  part 
which  relates  to  my  literary  acquirements,  you  may  see  in  the 
introduction  to  my  new  Essay  on  the  '  Resurrection,'  and  in 
the  '  Weekly  Entertainer'  about  three  or  four  weeks  since. 
In  this  latter  it  was  copied  from  Mr.  Polwiiele's  History  of 
Cornwall.  It  is  a  letter  which  I  wrote  to  Mr.  Polwhele,  in 
consequence  of  his  request  to  furnish  him  with  some  memoirs 
of  my  life.  But  he,  instead  of  working  on  the  materials  I  sent 
him,  gave  a  literal  copy  of  my  letter  to  the  world. 

"  As  to  politics,  I  am  sure  we  shall  not  differ.  I  was  once 
severely  tossed  on  that  unfathomable  sea,  but  have  been  on 
shore  for  many  years.  On  those  heroes  whose  names  fill  the 
world  with  their  renown,  I  lately  expressed  my  opinion  in  the 
following  lines : — 

'  What  are  those  men,  whose  names  create  such  dread 
Napoleon  living,  or  a  Casar  dead  ? 
One  for  his  crimes  was  from  the  senate  hurl'd, 
One  still  survives — the  terror  of  the  world. 
What  are  the  deeds  from  v^rhich  they  gather  fame  ? 
Plain,  wilful  murder,  with  another  name. 
And  such  as  shino  in  honour's  foremost  place 
Are  licensed  butchers  of  the  human  race.' 

To  these  sentiments  permit  me  to  add  another,  in  the  words 
of  Cowper : — 

'  0  for  a  lodge  in  some  vast  wilderness, 
Some  boundless  contiguity  of  shade, 
Where  rumour  of  oppression  and  deceit, 
Of  unsuccessful  or  successful  war. 
Might  never  reach  me  more  !' 

"  When  I  began  this  letter,  it  was  my  intention  to  pursue  those 
reflections  which  you  started  on  the  various  dispensations  of 
Providence  in  the  motley  appearances  of  human  life ;  but  ray 


288 


LIFE  OF  SAMUEL  DREW. 


paper  was  full  before  I  was  aware.  This  I  may  renew  in  a 
future  letter.  I  shall  be  glad  to  hear  from  you  as  soon  as  yon 
have  opportunity ;  and  beg,  if  any  difficulty  occurs  to  your 
mind  which  you  think  I  am  able  to  remove,  that  you  will  com- 
municate it  without  reserve,  and  with  all  the  readiness  that 
freedom  and  confidence  can  inspire. 

"  You  plainly  perceive  that  I  cannot  write  much  more.  I 
have  only  room  to  wish  you  every  blessing  for  time  and  eter- 
nity, and  to  assure  you  that  I  am  your  sincere  friend,  and 
shall  be  ever  ready  to  render  you  all  the  service  in  my 
power. 

"  Samtjel  Drew. 

"  Miss  Hookc^  Wemhury,  Pli/moiith." 

"  38  Newgate-street,  London, 
Dec.  30,  1824. 

"My  dear  John  and  Anna, 

"  Having  nothing  to  communicate  to  one  which  I  wish  to 
conceal  from  the  other,  1  address  you  both  on  the  same  sheet, 
not  having  time  to  write  to  each  separately. 

"  We  have  received  the  old  coins,  for  which  1  feel  much 

obliged.    I  will  take  care  that  Dr.  C  shall  not  rob  me  of 

these.  I  find  they  are  troublesome  things  to  have.  Without 
showing  them  they  lose  half  their  value :  if  presented  lo  a 
person  that  has  no  taste  for  antiquities  of  this  kind,  they  excite 
no  interest ;  and  if  shown  to  one  whom  they  please,  they  are 
taken  from  you  either  by  the  force  or  the  legerdemain  of  friend- 
ship. 

"  Mr.  M.  has  given  us  a  very  flattering  account  of  your 
domestic  procedure.  He  seems  to  think  that  neither  you,  nor 
Samuel  and  rib,  have  thus  far  forfeited  a  fair  title  to  the  'flitch 
of  bacon.'  Should  either  of  you  win  it,  the  event  must  be 
added  to  the  only  two  circumstances  on  record  in  which  it  was 
actually  claimed  and  carried  oflf.  In  one  instance,  a  sea  cap- 
tain and  his  wife  succeeded — he  being  compelled  to  go  to  sea 
the  day  after  marriage,  and  not  returning  until  its  anniversary 
arrived  ;  the  other  was  where  the  lady  was,  I  believe,  both 
deaf  and  dumb,  and  the  gentleman  remarkably  good-humoured. 
In  too  many  instances  domestic  feuds  arise  from  trifles.  Anna 
will  recollect  the  tale  I  have  frequently  told  of  the  man  and 
his  wife  quarrelling  about  the  flock  of  birds  which  flew  over 
their  house — whether  they  were  crows  or  roolcs.  The  knotty 
point  led  to  blows  three  years  following,  and  they  at  last  left 
the  affair  undecided. 


CHARACTERISTIC  LETTERS. 


289 


"  Be  kind,  affectionate,  and  tender-hearted  towards  each 
other;  not  putting  on  sullen  countenances,  or  laying  the  found- 
ation of  sighs.  My  dear  Anna  will  remember,  that  some 
months  since  I  told  her,  no  female  ought  to  be  married  until 
she  had  learned  a  piece  entitled  '  Pin  the  Basket;'  and  she 
has  frequently  heard  me  repeat  these  lines : — 

'  111  fares  that  luckless  family  -which  shows 
A  cock  that's  silent,  and  a  hen  that  crows.' 

Whenever  contentions  for  mastery  creep  into  a  house,  genuine 
affection  abates  in  its  fervour,  and  domestic  peace  retires.  I 
trust  that,  both  in  temporal  engagements  and  spiritual  con- 
cerns, you  will  mutually  help  each  other  on,  and  by  sharing 
its  weight  diminish  the  load  which  life  will  compel  you  to  bear. 
Remember  that,  in  the  affairs  of  this  life,  we  are  justified  by 
works,  and  not  by  faith ;  so  that  industry,  frugality,  and  ecou- 
omy  are  all  necessary  to  render  even  trade  successful. 

"  I  would  advise  you  to  keep  as  little  company  as  possible ; 
at  least  all  such  company  as  would  lead  to  expensive  enter- 
tainments. The  festivity  of  one  day  will  supply  a  moderate 
family  for  a  week.  If  you  open  the  door  to  an  enlargement 
of  company,  it  may  lead  to  unseasonable  hours,  generate  habits 
of  dissipation,  and  sometimes  furnish  occasions  of  regret.  I 
would  not  inculcate  an  unsociable  disposition  ;  but  guard 
against  any  thing  that  looks  like  avoidable  expense.  Two 
horses  travelling  side  by  side  mutually  stimulate  each  other, 
so  that  both  go  faster  than  either  would  if  travelling  alone. 
A  similar  propensity  may  be  found  in  human  nature.  The 
ftntertainment  made  by  A  must  be  rivalled  by  B,  exceeded  by 
C,  and  surpassed  by  D ;  and  thus,  in  a  spiral  line,  we  mount 
on  the  steps  of  ambitious  display,  till  at  length  we  get  so  high 
that  we  grow  giddy,  fall  down,  and  are  ruined. 

"  Sublunary  bliss,  however,  is,  at  the  best,  a  sickly  plant, 
and  no  care  or  culture  can  give  it  permanence,  or  preserve  it 
from  the  effect  of  storms.  That  only  is  durable  wiiich  blooms 
in  the  regions  of  immortality,  where  it  will  flourish  in  peren- 
nial verdure.  Let  us  then,  my  dear  children,  look  for  it  there, 
and  lay  up  for  ourselves  '  treasures,  where  neither  moth  nor 
rust  doth  corrupt,  and  where  thieves  break  not  through  nor 
steal.' 

"  Before  this  letter  reaches  you,  we  shall,  if  spared,  have 
entered  on  a  new  portion  of  existence.     1824  will  have  given 
in  its  account  at  the  great  tribunal,  and  have  sunk  into  the 
ocean  of  eternity.    Let  us  endeavour  so  to  live  through  1825, 
B  b 


290 


LIFE  OF  SAMUEL  DREW. 


that,  if  permitted  to  see  its  close,  we  may  look  back  with  less 
regret  than  we  must  now  on  its  predecessor.    With  best 
wishes  for  your  happiness,  I  remain,  dear  children, 
"  Your  affectionate  father, 

"  Samuel  Drew, 

"  Mrs.  John  Read,  Helston." 

"  38  Newgate-street,  London, 
"  Oct.  29,  1825. 

"My  dear  Mary, 
"  You  desired  me  to  write  you  '  a  very  wise  letter,  but  not 
about  such  things  as  how  impulse  begets  motion.'  You  have 
thus  set  me  an  arduous  task,  that  contains  nothing  specific,  and 
only  given  a  prohibition  from  which  I  am  directed  to  stand 
aloof. 

"  You  are  now,  my  dear  child,  fast  verging  towards  maturity  ; 
let  it  therefore  be  your  constant  care  that  your  mental  and  moral 
improvement  keep  pace  with  your  bodily  powers.  Human  na- 
ture is  so  constituted,  in  its  pn  sent  state,  that  our  passions  and 
understandings  move  onward  from  infancy  to  maturity  in  pro- 
gressive order.  It  is,  however,  painful  to  observe,  that  in  the 
mnjorily  of  human  beings,  the  passions  outgrow  the  judgment ; 
and,  when  this  is  the  case,  the  man  is  sunk  in  the  animal,  and 
the  intellectual  garden  produces  a  crop  of  weeds,  if  not  of  poison- 
ous vegetation.  To  prevent  this,  care,  diligence,  and  unremit- 
ting perseverance  are  necessary  to  make  the  moral  and  intel- 
lectual culture  keep  pace  with  the  animal  propensities.  When 
this  is  neglected,  we  reach  maturity  in  a  state  of  mental  deform- 
ity, and  are  compelled,  finally,  to  take  our  stand  among  the 
hewers  of  wood  and  the  drawers  of  water,  who  form  the  drudges 
of  the  community. 

"  I  have  frequently  told  you,  that,  for  intellectual  improve- 
ment, the  most  valuable  period  of  human  life  lies  between  the 
age  o( fourteen  and  twcnty-fonr.  The  former  you  have  passed, 
and,  whether  you  seize  the  opportunity  or  neglect  it,  the  latter 
is  hastening  towards  you.  Do  not  waste  your  time  in  reading 
trash  that  you  tnust  abandon,  although  style  and  subject  may 
be  fascinating;  but  rather  turn  to  such  things  as  you  will  hail 
with  joy  in  mature  years,  and  reflect  on  with  satisfaction.  YouJ 
have  now  an  opportunity  of  taking  time  by  the  forelock.  Doj 
not  let  him  get  the  start;  for,  once  passed  by,  he  is  gone  fon 
ever. 

"  But,  above  all,  do  not  forget  that  all  your  exertions  after 
intellectual  attainments  require  the  sanctifying  influence  of 


CHAKACTEKISTIC  LETTERS. 


291 


Divine  grace  to  be  rendered  truly  valuable.  Let  this,  therefore, 
be  the  object  of  your  daily  pursuit,  by  unfeigned  prayer.  He 
who  lives  under  the  dominion  of  his  passions  is  an  animal ;  he 
who  rises  no  higher  than  the  cultivation  of  intellect  is,  in  the 
sight  of  ihouglitless  mortals,  a  rational  philosopher  ;  but  he  who 
looks  beyond  this  state  of  existence,  and  cultivates  an  acquaint- 
ance with  God,  as  an  heir  of  immortality,  becomes  a  Ciiristian, 
and  enjoys  the  felicities  of  this  life  without  forfeiting  his  inter- 
est in  another.  Hence, 

'  A  Christian  is  the  highest  style  of  man.' 

"  In  a  former  letter  you  asked  me  to  propose  some  ques- 
tions for  you  to  answer.  This  I  will  now  endeavour  to  do.  lu 
ornamenting  your  head,  to  which  have  you  paid  the  most  atten- 
tion, the  inside  or  the  outside  ?  Are  you  industrious  ?  Do 
you  strive  to  make  yourself  useful  to  your  friends  ?  Do  you 
pay  attention  to  your  drawing  ?  Do  you  keep  company  with 
such  as  are  calculated  to  improve  you,  both  by  precept  and  ex- 
ample ?  Do  you  read  books  designed  '  to  teach  ihe  young  idea 
how  to  shoot  ?'  Are  you  attentive  to  the  duties  of  religion  ?  I 
need  not  say  that  I  am  deeply  interested  in  your  welfare  ;  and 
therefore  a  favourable  answer  to  these  questions  will,  in  some 
measure,  cheer  tiie  solitude  of 

"  Your  affectionate  father, 

"  Samuel  Drew. 

"  Miss  Drew^  Helaion,  Cornwall." 


292 


UFE  OF  9AMVKL  DREW, 


SECTION  XXX. 

Mr.  Drew's  character  as  a  Christian  and  a  teacher  of  religion — Peculiari- 
ties of  his  preaching. 

Of  Mr.  Drew's  feelings  as  a  Christian  little  information  can 
be  given  beyond  that  which  his  writings,  his  public  ministra- 
tions, and  his  letters  supply.  No  memoranda  have  been  dis- 
covered explanatory  of  liis  progressive  advances  in  personal 
piety ;  but  in  his  ordinary  deportment  a  diary  is  found  as  sat- 
isfactory, in  our  judgment,  as  whole  volumes  of  religious  expe- 
rience could  furnish. 

His  conversion  to  God,  the  circumstances  which  preceded 
it,  and  the  influence  of  Christianity  upon  his  general  conduct, 
are  already  known  to  the  reader.  When  the  liglit  of  Heaven 
beamed  upon  his  benighted  understanding,  he  entered  upon  a 
new  era  of  existence.  He  then  felt  that  he  had  a  soul ;  and, 
as  he  describes  the  sensations  of  his  infancy  when  under  his 
mother's  instruction,  his  heart  again  "glowed  with  unutterable 
delight."    There  was  now  an  aim  and  a  purpose  in  his  being. 

It  was  one  of  his  favourite  positions,  that  Christianity,  when 
properly  influential,  changes  the  spring  of  human  action.  Be- 
ing redeemed  from  selfishness  by  Divine  grace,  he  began  to  live 
for  the  good  of  others.  Yet,  though  active  and  zealous  in 
recommending  that  religion  which  he  felt  to  be  "the  power  of 
God  unto  salvation,"  there  was  nothing  in  his  deportment  wild 
or  enthusiastic — nothing  calculated  to  off'end.  To  persuade 
and  advise  was  a  duty  from  which  he  never  shrunk  ;  but,  how- 
ever greatly  such  sentiments  may  be  condemned  by  the  zealot 
or  the  visionary,  he  did  not  imagiive  that  religious  doctrines  are 
to  be  obtruded  upon  every  company,  and  forced  into  every  con- 
versation. To  special  modes  of  doing  good  he  was  never  in- 
different ;  and  every  benevolent  institution  found  in  him  a  ready 
friend  and  an  efficient  advocate. 

Mr.  Drew's  Christian  experience  (we  use  that  ambiguous 
phrase  for  want  of  a  substitute)  was  without  any  material  fluc- 
tuation. Sustained  by  a  vigorous  faith  which  rarely  exhibited 
a  symptom  of  weakness,  an  even  tranquillity  marked  his  course. 
He  knew  very  little  of  depression  or  of  ecstasy.    By  him  the 


HIS  RELIGIOUS  CHARACTER. 


293 


apostolic  benediction,  "Let  the  peace  of  God  rule  in  your 
hearts,"  seemed  to  have  been  fully  realized  ;  and  to  many  of 
his  Christian  friends,  who,  at  seasons,  appeared  to  feel  "  more 
abundant  joy,"  he  was  the  means  of  administering  consolation 
and  comfort,  when  "  the  bright  shining"  of  their  Lord's  counte- 
nance was  for  a  lime  withdrawn. 

Though  he  did  not  sustain  the  office  of  class-leader  in  St. 
Austell,  except  at  an  early  date,  and  for  a  brief  period,  yet,  in 
the  absence  of  the  appointed  leaders,  he  not  unfrequently  ful- 
filled their  duties.  Notwithstanding  his  usual  placid  feelings, 
he  knew,  experimentally,  enough  of  the  Christian's  conflicts  and 
consolations  to  become  an  admirable  instructer  of  others.  "I 
remember,"  said  an  old  member  of  the  society,  "  that  once, 
when  he  led  the  class,  I  spoke  of  being  in  a  very  gloomy  and 
uncomfortable  state  of  mind.  His  reply,  which  I  shall  never 
forget,  was  simply  this  : — '  The  clouds  may  come  between  U3 
and  the  sun;  but  the  sun  still  shines,  and  ere  long  the  clouds 
will  pass  away.'  How  often  since  have  I  been  comforted  by 
his  remark !" 

A  gentleman,  who  had  placed  himself  under  Mr.  Drew's  pri- 
vate instruction  in  London,  writes  thus  : — "  As  a  class-leader 
lie  displayed  an  accurate  knowledge  of  the  human  heart.  He 
had  a  peculiarly  afliectionate  method  of  enforcing  on  the  con- 
science the  solemn  precepts  of  religion  ;  and  on  its  promises  and 
consolations  he  delighted  to  expatiate.  His  affection  for  the 
members  of  his  class,  and  his  fervent  prayers  for  their  spir- 
itual welfare,  will  long  be  remembered.  For  myself,  I  may 
truly  say,  he  was  my  father  in  Christ ;  and  to  his  advice  and 
kind  instructions,  under  Divine  grace,  I  owe  much  spiritual  good. 
His  views  of  Scripture  truth,  and  the  importance  of  vital  piety, 
were  free  from  enthusiasm,  and  were  evidently  the  result  of  the 
calm  convictions  of  reason,  confirmed  and  strengthened  by  the 
powerful  and  abiding  influences  of  the  Holy  Spirit.  He  was 
pre-eminently  a  rational  Christian,  and  held  in  subordinate 
estimation  those  sudden  bursts  of  feeling  and  physical  excite- 
ment which  are  considered  by  many  as  infallible  signs  of  a  high 
state  of  religious  impression." 

Ardour  of  devotion,  warmth  of  feeling  in  pious  exercises,  Mr. 
Drew  would  have  been  the  last  person  to  condemn,  but  to  any 
thing  like  noise  or  confusion  in  religious  meetings  he  was  con- 
stitutionally as  well  as  theoretically  averse.  He  has  sometimes 
said,  "  At  such  seasons  I  can  never  exercise  deep  devotion.  A 
sensation  of  disgust  overpowers  my  better  feelings.  Such  things 
are  to  me  what  the  wind  was  to  the  traveller  in  the  fable"  (and 
Bb2 


394 


LIFE  OF  SAMUEL  DREW. 


in  making  the  remark  he  would  "  suit  the  action  to  the,word") — 
"  they  seem  to  make  me  button  in  my  coat,  and  retire  within  my- 
self." Among  the  religious  society  to  which  he  belonged,  we 
do  not  esteem  such  feelings  to  bo  peculiar  to  him  ;  and,  although 
a  contrary  opinion  is  insinuated  by  the  author  of  "  Biographical 
Sketches  in  Cornwall,"  the  remark  tliat  "  Drew  is  a  philosopher 
among  Methodists,  and  a  Methodist  among  philosopiiers,"  is, 
at  the  least,  of  dubious  application. 

We  have  intimated  that  he  left  no  written  description  of  his 
religious  feelings ;  but  are  now  half-disposed  to  question  the 
assertion.  There  is  nothing,  certainly,  that  purports  to  be  such 
a  statement;  but  look  where  we  may  among  his  writings,  pub- 
lished and  unpublislied,  we  see  the  out-breakings  of  the  Chris- 
tian spirit.  Appended  to  his  ordinary  business  memoranda, 
such  expressions  as  these — '•  Thanks  be  to  God,"  "Thanks  be 
to  the  Lord  for  all  his  mercies,"  "  For  this  and  every  mercy 
bestowed  upon  me  God  be  praised,"  not  unfrequently  occur. 
Scarcely  a  domestic  letter  of  his  can  be  perused  in  which  there 
is  not  some  pious  wish,  some  serious  advice,  or  some  holy 
breathing;  and  his  epistles  of  friendship  glow  with  tiie  same 
hallowed  feeling.  Was  not  his  whole  life,  from  the  period  of 
his  conversion,  a  Christian  diary  ?  And  might  he  not,  with  per- 
fect propriety,  be  associated  with  those  members  of  an  early 
Christian  church  of  whom  it  was  said,  in  the  language  of  inspi- 
ration, "  Ye  are  our  epistles,  known  and  read  of  all  men  ?" 

In  an  early  period  of  his  literary  correspondence  with  Dr. 
Kidd,  he  remarks,  "  While  we  thus  calculate  on  future  avoca- 
tions, we  ought  not  to  forget  that  our  firmest  footing  may,  on 
a  sudden,  fail  us,  and  in  an  instant  summon  us  before  the  tri- 
bunal of  Him  whose  being  and  perfections  we  endeavour  to 
trace.  This  thought  sometitnes  stimulates  me  to  action,  be- 
cause the  moments  that  can  be  improved  are  very  few — at 
others  it  stagnates  all  my  pursuits,  and  the  necessity  of  pre- 
paring to  meet  my  God  swallows  up  every  other  consideration. 
To  pass  through  time  with  an  eye  constantly  fixed  on  eter- 
nity, I  trust,  is  my  principal  object.  My  only  hopes  of  heaven 
are  founded  on  the  life  and  death  of  our  Lord  Jesus  ;  and  I 
expect  a  qualification  for  the  heavenly  inheritance  only  through  i 
the  influence  of  his  Holy  Spirit."  I 

In  a  letter  to  the  same  friend,  dated  July,  1827,  he  uses  i| 
these  words: — "  On  Sundays  I  am  almost  constantly  engaged 
as  a  local  preacher  among  the  Wesleyan  Methodists,  as  I  have 
been  for  the  last  forty  years  of  my  life.    But,  although  my 
services  have  been  acceptable  to  the  community  of  which  I 


CHARACTER  OF  HIS  PREACHING. 


295 


am  a  member,  I  am  fully  aware  that  something  more  is  need- 
ful to  form  the  Christian,  and  sustain  his  character.  My  re- 
liance for  salvation  is  exclusively  on  the  atonement  of  Christ, 
through  the  instrumentality  of  that  faith  which  leads  to  practical 
godliness.  I  am  aware,  my  dear  I'riend,  that  I  am  not  making 
that  progress  in  the  divine  life  wiiich  both  duty  and  privilege 
dictate ;  but  I  bless  God  that  my  face  is  still  Zionward,  and 
that  I  . have  no  desire  to  forsake  the  heavenly  way.  My  faith 
is  not  strong,  but  it  is  steady,  and,  I  trust,  genuine,  uniting  me 
to  Christ,  my  living  head,  and  leading  me  to  have  my  fruit  unto 
holiness.  In  theories  and  opinions  I  place  but  little  confi- 
dence ;  and,  in  my  estimation,  no  principle  is  any  further  valu- 
able than  as  it  leads  to  experimental  or  practical  religion. 
These  are  the  primary  objects  which  I  am  endeavouring  to 
attain,  and  I  experience  a  pleasing  assurance  that  God  will  at 
last  receive  me  into  glory." 

Were  it  necessary  to  advert  to  Mr.  Drew's  religious  senti- 
ments, we  should  call  his  views  evangelical,  and  his  tenets 
Anninian,  though  we  question  whether  he  would  have  sub- 
scribed throughout  to  any  formal  confession  of  faith — to  none 
certainly  that  breathed  an  exclusive  spirit.  He  was  an  Ar- 
minian  more  especially  in  discrediting,  as  doctrines  of  revela- 
tion, w«conc?i<jonaZ  reprobation  ^nd  particular  redemption.  So 
repugnanttotheattributes  of  Deity  did  he  deem  the  partial  extent 
of  the  atonement,  that  he  has  said,  "  Could  I  persuade  myself 
of  its  being  a  doctrine  of  the  Bible,  1  should  seriously  question 
whether  the  Bible  were  a  revelation  from  God."  Yet  a  literary 
gentleman  of  Calvinislic  sentiments,  with  whom  he  corre- 
sponded, writes  to  him,  "  I  find  by  your  answers  to  my  questions 
that  you  are  as  good  a  Calvinist  as  myself." 

When  Mr.  Drew  became  a  preacher,  it  was  without  that 
conviction  of  his  being  divinely  called  to  the  office  which  many 
Christians  deem  indispensable.  Under  a  general  belief  that 
it  is  every  man's  duty  to  "  do  good  to  all  as  he  may  have  oppor- 
tunity," he  yielded  to  the  judgment  of  his  Christian  brethren 
who  thought  him  well  qualified  to  take  a  part  in  their  ministe- 
rial labours. 

In  his  pulpit  discourses  the  peculiarity  of  his  mind  was  ap- 
parent. His  subjects  being  generally  such  as  led  either  to  a 
discussion  of  some  important  theological  proposition,  or  to  an 
investigation  of  the  evidences  of  the  Christian  faith,  the  posi- 
tions maintained  in  his  writings  were  often  brought  forward  in 
his  oral  addresses,  and  placed  in  new  and  commanding  lights. 
In  his  views  and  illustrations  there  was  much  originality ;  and. 


S96 


riFE  OF  SAMUEL  DBEVT. 


although  limited  in  his  choice  of  subjects,  his  sermons  exhibited 
so  much  depth  and  range  of  thought  that  their  sameness  was 
unnoticed  or  overlooked.  There  was  no  tinsel  in  their  com- 
position ;  and  every  hearer  accustomed  to  close,  sifting  investi- 
gation enjoyed  a  rich  intellectual  treat.  Perhaps  we  cannot 
better  describe  him  as  a  preacher  than  in  the  words  used  in 
one  of  the  weekly  prints  a  few  days  after  his  decease. 

"  He  abounded  in  anecdote,  and  possessed  a  peculiar  humour 
which  gave  a  relish  to  his  occasional  remarks  and  to  his  con- 
versation ;  but  let  him  ascend  the  pulpit,  and  deliver  a  set  dis- 
course, and  he  infallibly  opened  up  some  question  of  abstract 
science,  as  the  immortality  of  the  human  soul,  or  the  being  of 
God.  But  the  discussion  of  these  and  similar  questions,  though 
frequently  repeated  before  the  same  congregation,  never  tired. 
The  acuteness  of  Mr.  Drew's  perceptions,  and  his  quick  and 
clear  apprehension  of  the  successive  links  in  the  chain  of  an 
argument,  combined  with  uncommon  facility  and  volubility  of 
utterance,  though  entirely  unassisted  by  any  of  the  graces  of 
oratory,  obtained  and  secured  attention  without  ever  wearying 
it.  It  is  probable  that  few  persons  who  have  heard  Mr.  D. 
preach  entertained  so  clear  notions  of  the  subject  on  which  he 
discoursed,  as  those  which  they  received  on  hearing  him ;  and 
the  monotopicism  of  his  sermons  was  the  less  to  be  regretted,  as, 
in  the  great  variety  of  pulpit  talent,  there  are  few  preachers 
who  have  the  ability,  or,  having  the  ability,  are  governed  by 
the  inclination,  to  introduce  the  metaphysics  of  theology  into 
the  pulpit."* 

In  subscribing  to  the  opinion  of  this  writer,  that  Mr.  Drew 
was  "entirely  unassisted  by  the  graces  of  oratory,"  we  do  not 
admit  that  he  was  de.'^titute  of  eloquence ;  but  that  he  neither 
studied  nor  affected  rhetorical  gesture.  His  thoughts  were 
habitually  clothed  in  appropriate  language  ;  the  force  and  pre- 
cision of  his  expressions  every  hearer  felt ;  and,  when  yield- 
ing to  his  poetical  imagination,  he  would  sometimes  delight  his 
audience  by  passages  of  surpassing  beauty  and  sublimity. 
Still,  he  made  no  pretensions  to  the  refinement  of  a  finished 
preacher.  He  was  not  free  from  provincialisms  ;  and  his  broad 
pronunciation  of  some  words  would  have  sounded  harshly  on 
the  ear,  were  not  the  attention  of  his  auditory  so  fully  occupied  j 
with  his  matter  as  to  forget  his  manner.  j 

His  preliminary  movements,  when  about  to  address  a  con- 
gregation, were  not  governed  by  the  purest  taste  ;  but  they  had 
become  so  habitual,  that  to  avoid  them  he  must  have  placed 


♦  Christian  Advocate. 


CHARACTER  OF  HIS  PREACHING. 


297 


himself  under  uncomfortable  restraint.  Before  he  began  his 
sermon,  he  invariably  turned  back  the  cuffs  of  his  coat,  that 
his  hands  might  be  at  perfect  liberty.  After  reciting  his  text, 
expectoration  was  the  next  process.  Then,  pausing  so  long, 
with  an  introverted  eye,  that  a  stranger  might  have  supposed 
he  had  either  forgotten,  or  was  unable  to  proceed  with  his  sub- 
ject, he  would,  in  a  calm,  deliberate,  and  collected  manner,enter 
upon  his  introduction.  Two  or  three  divisions  formed  the  total 
of  his  artificial  arrangement ;  and  sometimes,  without  any  such 
aid,  he  would  follow  out  his  leading  thought,  and  push  the  in- 
quiry to  a  conclusion.  The  truth  expressed  or  implied  in  the 
text  being  thus  established  by  collateral  Scripture  evidence  and 
a  reference  to  abstract  principles,  he  would  point  out  its  pe- 
culiar application  to  the  auditory,  and  conclude  whh  solemn 
appeals  to  their  judgment  and  their  conscience.  His  voice, 
distinct  throughout,  would  become  elevated  and  impassioned  as 
he  grew  warm  with  his  subject ;  and  his  words,  slow  at  the 
first,  would  acquire  rapidity  and  power,  as  though  the  deepen- 
ing current  of  his  thoughts  gave  them  momentum  as  well  as 
impulse. 

Aliiiough  some  hearers  could  not  follow  out  his  train  of  rea- 
soning, yet,  from  his  incidental  and  pointed  remarks,  they  were 
sure  to  derive  information  and  benefit.  His  illustrations  pro- 
duced their  full  effect,  when  his  arguments  were  but  partially 
understood ;  and  the  consciences  of  those  who  listened  were 
rarely  insensible  to  the  faithfulness  of  his  admonitions. 

We  are  far  from  representing  Mr.  Drew  as  a  model  of  pulpit 
oratory.  Had  he  been,  instead  of  an  occasional  preacher,  the 
setded  pastor  of  a  congregation,  his  discourses  would  have 
appeared  deficient,  not  only  in  variety,  but  in  specific  appro- 
priation. Like  Mr.  Hall,  he  viewed  human  nature  in  the  ab- 
stract, not  in  its  individual  modes.  The  general  application 
of  his  sermons  was  forcible,  but  it  wanted  that  particular  bear- 
ing on  the  conscience,  and  appeal  to  the  feelings,  which,  upon 
the  majority  of  hearers,  produces  a  more  instantaneous  effect 
than  usually  results  from  rigid  demonstration.  He  spoke  to 
Ithe  judgment — not  to  the  passions.  Such  views  of  the  Deity 
las  would  invest  him  with  a  vindictive  character  he  always  dep- 
recated ;  and,  though  he  knew  "  the  terrors  of  the  Lord,"  he 
sought  to  persuade  rather  than  to  alarm  men.  The  necessity 
of  an  atonement  for  sin,  and  of  the  renewing  and  purifying 
influences  of  the  Holy  Ghost,  were  prominent  features  in  all  his 
addresses ;  yet  this  was  represented  more  as  a  result  of  the 


298 


LIFE  OF  SAMUEL  DREW. 


fallen  state  of  man,  and  the  immutability  of  the  Divine  nature, 
than  as  an  alternative  of  endless  misery  ;  and  even  the  utter 
wo  consequent  upon  final  impenitence,  as  less  the  good  pleas- 
ure of  the  Almighty  than  a  necessity  in  the  nature  of  things, 
and  an  inevitable  consequence  of  rejecting  proffered  grace. 

Those  who  scrutinized  Mr.  Drew's  sermons  would  have 
found  reason  to  conclude,  that  when  he  dwelt  upon  those  pre- 
ceptive parts  of  Scripture  which  refer  to  moral  duties,  he 
rarely  entered  into  their  minute  bearings,  or  offered  special 
directions  in  those  difficult  cases  which  are  of  frequent  occur- 
rence in  every  man's  experience.  He  regarded  the  Bible 
rather  as  a  repository  of  principles  than  as  a  code  of  laws 
regulating  each  minute  action.  On  the  universal  adaptation 
of  the  Gospel  message  to  the  circumstances  and  expectations 
of  mankind,  he  often  dwelt  and  reasoned:  whatever  in  the 
general  economy  of  Providence  appeared  dark  and  doubtful  he 
felt  pleasure  in  attempting  to  explain ;  and  he  delighted  to 
bring  into  a  focus  those  scattered  rays  which  play  around 
the  gloomiest  dispensations,  and  to  "  vindicate  the  ways  of 
God  to  man." 

In  exhibiting  the  various  evidences  of  Christianity, — in 
repelling  all  who  attempted  to  weaken  or  undermine  her  walls 
and  bulwarks, — in  consoling  the  afflicted,  by  directing  their 
vision  towards  that  glory  that  shall  be  revealed, — and  in  point- 
ing out  the  immutable  bases  of  good  and  evil,  and  their  conse- 
quences in  a  future  state  of  being,  he  expatiated  in  a  region 
perfectly  congenial  with  his  thoughts  and  feelings.  We  dare 
not  say  that  he  could  not  have  trained  himself  to  a  more 
minute  and  personal  style  of  preaching,  had  he  deemed  it  ne- 
cessary. Concluding,  with  reference  to  the  pulpU,  as  he  did  in 
his  pursuit  of  knowledge,  that 

"  One  science  only  will  one  genius  fit," 

he  perhaps  judged  it  preferable  to  yield  to  the  general  bent  of 
his  mind,  and  to  pursue  that  course  in  which  he  could  move 
with  the  greatest  freedom.  Connected  as  he  was  with  the^ 
itinerant  system,  he  perceived  that  all  those  benefits  whicM 
may  result  from  a  versatility  of  talent  in  a  fixed  minister  arJ 
secured  to  the  Methodist  hearers  by  the  "diversity  of  gifts'! 
exhibited  in  the  successive  ministrations  of  many.  Perhaps,^ 
too,  he  thought,  that,  while  each  was  cultivating  his  own  pecu- 
liar ability,  and  bringing  it  into  the  general  stock,  the  perfec- 
tion which  in  arts  and  manufactures  results  from  a  subdivision 


CHARACTER  OF  HIS  PREACHING. 


299 


of  labour  might  from  such  a  system  not  unreasonably  be  ex- 
pected in  a  higher  and  hoUer  occupation. 

A  gentleman  who  frequently  sat  under  Mr.  Drew's  ministry 
in  the  metropolis  has  given  an  opinion  of  his  preaching, 
which,  though  not  according  in  every  particular  with  the  pre- 
ceding remarks,  may  be  quoted  in  illustration. 

"  As  is  usual  in  the  public  ministrations  of  the  Wesleyan 
Methodists,  Mr.  Drew's  sermons  were  delivered  extempora- 
neously, and,  though  highly  argumentative,  were  truly  evan- 
gelical. Notwithstanding  his  natural  aptitude  for  abstruse  and 
subtle  disquisition,  the  various  striking  remarks  with  which  his 
oral  addresses  abounded  were  sure,  even  with  regard  to  the 
plainest  understanding,  not  only  to  rivet  attention  but  affect  the 
heart.  The  inipressiveness  of  his  discourses  could  not  be 
imputed  to  Extravagance  either  of  voice  or  gesture  ;  yet  he  was 
an  energetic  and  efficient  preacher.  This  I  attribute  to  his 
fervour  of  spirit ;  to  the  uncommon  pains  he  took,  first  to  select 
and  submit  an  important  proposition,  and  then  to  prove  what 
he  proposed ;  and  to  his  endeavour  to  explain  and  enforce 
upon  the  judgment  and  conscience  of  the  hearer  the  truth 
under  consideration.  His  discourse  was  usually  so  linked 
together,  from  beginning  to  end,  by  a  chain  of  consecutive 
reasoning,  that,  unless  the  hearer  regarded  each  point  as  it  was 
handled,  the  process  was  disturbed,  and  the  force  of  the  whole 
weakened  or  lost.  Superficial  and  drowsy  hearers  deemed 
him  a  dry  preacher.  To  all  such  he  must  have  been  so.  By 
tiie  earnest  and  watchful  listener  no  such  complaint  was 
made."* 

Elaborate  in  argument  as  Mr.  Drew's  pulpit  addresses 
appeared,  he  bestowed  little  time  on  their  preparation.  A 
contrary  opinion  is  intimated  in  the  foregoing  paragraph  ;  but, 
to  those  who  were  best  acquainted  with  his  daily  engagements, 
it  was  well  known  that  he  had  liiile  leisure  for  study  in  refer- 
ence to  his  public  discourses.  An  hour's  retirement  was  all 
the  preparation  he  in  general  needed  to  speak  from  a  new  text. 

L  *  Mr.  Drew's  discourses  were  variously  appreciated.  In  some  Wes- 
He)'an  cliapels  in  Cornwall  an  individual  has  at  times  ofEciated  as  a 
kreucher,  who,  from  his  deficient  understanding  of  every  other  subject 
pbut  religion,  is  commonly  known  liy  the  appellation  of  " /Ae  fool."  On 
retiring  from  the  chapel  in  one  of  the  Uornish  towns  where  Mr.  Drew 
had  been  delivering  an  occasional  sermon,  an  individual  of  the  congre- 
gation was  overheard  to  ask  another,  "  Was  not  that  the  fool  that 
preached  1" 


300 


tIFE  OF  SAMUEL  DKEW. 


Composition  would  have  been  a  term  inapplicable  to  his  ser* 
itions.  Pen  and  ink  he  used  very  sparingly.  The  divisions 
which  a  text  might  suggest,  and  a  few  prominent  ideas,  were 
all  that  he  was  accustomed  to  note  down.  There  are  few  of 
his  sermons,  as  far  as  they  are  committed  to  writing,  that 
occupy  a  larger  space  in  his  rough  manuscript  than  six  inciies 
square.  He  has  expressed  it  as  his  opinion,  that  "  the  man 
who  cannot  preach  a  sermon  without  first  arranging  it  on  paper 
is  ill  qualified  for  his  office ;"  and  he,  on  one  occasion,  ob- 
served to  a  friend,  "  I  never  but  once  wrote  a  sermon  at  length 
before  1  preached  it,  and  that  I  spoiled." 

The  cause  of  this  may  be  traced  in  the  activity  of  his  mind, 
and  ills  habits  of  close  thinking.  The  leading  doctrines  of 
Christianity  having  been  the  subjects  of  his  most  rigid  investi- 
gation, the  arguments  for  each  were  arranged  in  his  memory 
ready  to  be  brought  forward  upon  the  shortest  notice.  One 
or  other  of  these  was  to  be  found,  directly  or  by  implication, 
in  every  striking  passage  of  Scripture ;  and  thus  the  ground- 
work and  materials  of  an  argumentative  discourse  being 
already  provided,  he  could  quickly  fashion  and  complete  the 
structure.  Very  seldom,  we  believe,  did  he  frame  a  discourse 
and  then  choose  for  it  a  texi,  though  this  he  may  have  done 
on  special  occasions.  Commonly,  when  a  portion  of  Scrip- 
ture presented  itself  in  confirmation  of  some  vagrant  but  im- 
portant thought,  he  would  seize  on  it,  examine  it,  refer  it  to  its 
principles,  carry  it  out  to  its  consequences,  and  note  down,  in 
a  few  words,  the  process  and  the  result,  as  materials  for  a 
future  sermon,  to  be  used  as  occasion  might  require. 

Without  even  this  degree  of  preparation  he  has  been  known 
to  address  a  congregation.  While  stopping  at  a  friend's 
house,  in  the  St.  Austell  circuit,  to  take  some  refreshment  after 
preaching,  a  person  in  company  who  had  attended  the  service 
remarked  to  him,  that  he  had  on  that  occasion  surpassed  his 
usual  abilities.  In  this  opinion  he  was  followed  by  several 
others.  "  If  it  be  true,"  said  Mr.  Drew,  "  it  is  the  more  sin- 
gular, because  my  sermon  was  entirely  unpremeditated.  I 
went  into  tlie  pulpit  designing  to  address  you  from  another 
text;  but  looking  on  the  Bible,  which  lay  open,  that  passagej 
from  which  you  heard  me  speak  just  now,  '  Prepare  to  meet] 
thy  God,  O  Israel,'  arrested  my  attention  so  forcibly  as  to  puJ 
to  flight  my  former  ideas  ;  and,  though  I  had  never  considerecfl 
the  passage  before,  I  resolved  instantly  to  make  it  the  subject 
of  my  address." 

It  may  be  thought  that  Mr.  Drew's  want  of  careful  prepa- 


CHARACTER  OF  HIS  PREACHING. 


301 


ration  for  the  pulpit  proceeded  either  from  too  lightly  estimat- 
ing the  sacredness  and  importance  of  the  office,  too  little 
deference  to  his  audience,  or  too  much  self-dependence.  Such 
a  charge  would  have  been  unsupported  by  evidence.  Through- 
out almost  his  whole  life  he  hnd  too  many  occupations  to  per- 
mit the  appropriation  of  any  considerable  portion  of  time  to  the 
construction  or  polish  of  his  discourses.  It  should  also  be 
remembered,  that  he  never  considered  preaching  to  be  his 
proper  business  ;  he  viewed  it  as  something  incidental  and 
subordinate  to  the  general  purposes  of  his  being. 

In  his  prayers  there  was  very  little  of  excursive  fancy,  and 
not  much  variety  of  language.  Changing  a  word  in  that  ex- 
pressive sentence  of  Dr.  Johnson,  perhaps  he  felt  that  "  the 
good  and  evil  of  eternity  were  too  ponderous  for  the  wings  of 
imagination.  While  ascribing  praise,  he  evinced  the  over- 
flowings of  a  grateful  heart ;  and  when  making  supplication, 
he  felt  all  the  weight,  importance,  and  solemnity  of  the  duty. 
Few  could  listen  to  his  prayers,  and  not  experience  in  some 
degree  similar  sensations.  One  might  forget  that  he  was  a 
philosopher,  but  every  sentence  proved  that  he  was  a  Chris- 
tian. 

In  the  selection  of  hymns  he  was  particularly  careful  not  to 
put  those  into  the  mouths  of  a  mixed  congregation  which,  like 
the  greater  number  in  Mr.  Wesley's  collection,  describe  per- 
sonal feelings,  and  as  such  can  be  used  with  truth  by  a  few 
persons  only.  From  this  scrupulosity  his  choice  was  neces- 
sarily much  limited.  Those  of  Dr.  Watts's  composition  he 
chiefly  preferred,  and  used  most  frequently.  Before  the  pub- 
lication of  the  supplement  to  Mr.  Wesley's  collection,  he 
regretted  that  there  were  so  few  hymns  in  the  book  adapted 
for  general  worship. 

To  be  exceedingly  sensitive  to  any  remark  upon  their  pul- 
pit discourses  is  a  foible  of  some  preachers.  A  question  inti- 
mating doubt  of  the  truth  of  any  proposition  of  the  speaker  is 
construed  into  an  imputation  on  his  ability,  and  half  resented 
as  an  ofi'ence.  To  such  a  feeling  Mr.  Drew  was  an  utter 
stranger.  He  rather  wished  that  every  thing  he  advanced 
should  be  thoroughly  sifted.  A  young  lady  who  heard  him 
preach  on  the  atonement,  not  clearly  understanding  his  views 
on  one  particular  point,  ventured,  on  leaving  the  chapel,  with 
some  apology  for  her  freedom,  to  tell  him  so.  As  they  were 
passing  along  the  street,  he  returned  to  that  part  of  his  sermon, 
gave  a  farther  illustration  of  his  arguments,  and  removed  the 
C  c 


302 


LITE  OI  SAMUEL  DREW. 


difficulty.  "  Now  remember,"  said  he,  on  parting,  "  whenever 
you  hear  me  assert  any  thing  you  do  not  fully  understand,  or 
which  you  think  questionable,  be  sure  you  tell  me  of  it,  and 
persevere  till  you  comprehend  my  meaning,  and  are  satisfied 
of  its  truth." 

The  reader  who  has  become  thus  far  acquainted  with  Mr. 
Drew's  character  and  catholic  spirit  will  feel  no  surprise  in 
learning  that  he  was  frequently  invited  to  officiate  in  other 
pulpits  than  those  belonging  to  the  Wesleyan  Methodists. 
This  he  did  in  several  instances  in  Cornwall,  and,  we  believe, 
in  the  metropolis.  He  felt  pleasure  in  acceding  to  such 
requests,  because  he  delighted  to  witness,  to  foster,  and  to 
gratify  the  liberal  spirit  which  originated  such  invitations ; 
yet,  when  an  attempt  Avas  made  to  detach  him  from  the 
Methodists  by  certain  wealthy  and  influential  individuals  in 
London  offering  to  build  for  him  a  new,  independent  church, 
and  to  guarantee  him  a  handsome  income,  the  spirit  of  his 
reply  was,  "  I  dwell  among  mine  own  people."  To  Wesleyan 
Methodism  he  was  attached  by  various  ties,  and  from  its  com- 
munion he  resolved  not  to  separate. 

It  may  be  expected  that  some  notice  should  be  taken  of  Mr. 
D.'s  labours  as  a  preacher  in  reference  to  their  success. 
That  preaching  is  to  be  estimated  by  its  moral  effect,  and  a 
preacher  valued  according  to  his  usefulness,  is  readily  ad- 
mitted ;  but  if  it  be  thence  concluded  that  this  usefulness  must 
be  of  a  specific  kind,  and  that  he  only  is  to  be  esteemed  as  a 
preacher  who  has  been  instrumental  in  convening  many  sin- 
ners, we  deny  the  inference.    High  and  important  as  this 
work  is,  there  are  various  other  modes  in  which  a  public 
teacher  may  benefit  those  who  hear  him ;  nor  is  the  conver- 
sion of  sinners  to  supersede  the  "  building  up"  of  believer's  on 
their  "  most  holy  faith."    We  even  question  the  validity  of  an 
opinion  proceeding  from  a  higiily  venerated  authority,  that 
"  fruit"  is  an  indispensable  proof  of  being  called  to  the  minis- 
try.   It  assumes  a  ground  vvliich  we  have  attempted  to  show . 
is  untenable  :  it  is  fallacious  as  a  lest,  because  bad  men  have  j 
been  the  means  of  alarming  sinners,  and  leading  them  to  God  ;| 
and  it  involves  this  contradiction,  that  a  man  must  exercise  the! 
ministerial  office  for  an  indefinite  period  before  it  can  be  known  ^ 
whether  he  ought  to  exercise  it  or  not. 

But,  waving  such  objections,  direct  testimonies  are  not  want- 
ing to  Mr.  Drew's  ministerial  usefulness. 


EFFECTS   OF  HIS  PREACHING. 


303 


The  case  of  the  Roman  Catholic  female,  who  was  led 
through  his  preaching  to  embrace  Protestantism,  and  expe- 
rience the  power  of  religion  on  her  heart,  has  been  already 
noticed.  It  was  not  long  after  he  began  to  labour  as  a  local 
preacher,  that  an  individual,  at  a  love-feast,  stated  that  he  had 
been  brought  to  "  the  knowledge  of  salvation  by  the  remission 
of  sins"  through  the  awakening  of  his  conscience  under  one  of 
Mr.  Drew's  sermons.  A  gentleman  of  Falmouth,  in  a  letter 
dated  January,  1816,  writes  to  Mr.  Drew,  '-I  have  had  the 
pleasure  of  attending  and  benefiting  by  several  of  your  lec- 
tures, during  your  former  and  last  visit  to  this  town  ;  and,  not 
being  in  the  Methodist  connection,  I  am  at  a  loss  in  what  way 
to  testify  my  gratitude  to  you." 

A  pious  lady  ofFowey,  in  a  recent  communication  observes, 
*•  The  Lord  was  pleased  to  make  Mr.  Drew's  preaching  useful 
in  this  place.  His  talents  and  celebrity  attracted  many  of  the 
respectable  inhabitants  to  the  Methodist  chapel,  some  of  whom 
became  frequent  and  attentive  hearers.  One  of  the  first  fruits 
of  his  ministry  here  was  a  female,  who  joined  the  Methodist 
society,  and  endured  persecution  for  the  cross  of  Christ.  A  lady 
of  this  town,  who  had  heard  Mr.  D.  preach,  being  taken  ill, 
expressed  a  wish  to  see  him,  and  was  led,  through  his  instruc- 
tions, to  see  that  an  unblameable  outward  conduct  was  insuffi- 
cient for  her  salvation  :  this  blessing  she  sought  through  faith 
in  Christ ;  and  was  enabled,  before  her  decease,  to  declare  that 
she  felt  the  door  of  mercy  to  be  open." 

A  Wesleyan  minister,  a  native  of  the  St.  Austell  circuit,  ob- 
serves, in  a  letter  to  the  writer,  "  Your  dear  father  had  long  one 
of  the  highest  seats  in  my  esteem  and  affection.  He  was  the 
chief  instrument,  in  the  hands  of  God,  of  directing  my  attention 
to  things  divine." 

There  would  be  little  difficulty  in  adding  to  this  list,  were  it 
necessary  to  seek  for  instances.  In  Mr.  Drew's  native  town 
many  pious  individuals  refer  with  pleasure  to  his  pulpit  and 
private  instructions,  and  to  the  enlargement  of  views  and  quick- 
ening of  spirit  which  they  felt  as  the  result. 

Although  Mr.  Drew  shone  chiefly  as  a  metaphysical  preacher, 
it  must  not  be  inferred  that  he  appeared  in  no  other  character. 
He  has  preached  many  sermons  in  which  little  of  metaphysics 
was  perceptible,  though  the  hearer  could  not  forget  that  he  was 
listening  to  "  a  master  in  Israel."  In  the  afternoon  services  in 
St.  Austell,  and  at  the  meetings  for  prayer,  he  would  frequently 
address  the  auditory  upon  particular  religious  topics  in  a  manner 


304 


LIFE  OF  SAUITEL  DREVT. 


quite  colloquial.  Indeed  he  was  peculiarly  felicitous  in  ex- 
plaining separately,  and  in  detail,  the  doctrines  of  Christianity ; 
and  never,  perhaps,  was  it  done  with  more  permanent  effect 
than  in  such  spontaneous  remarks.  His  conceptions  were 
clear  ;  his  language  perspicuous  and  precise  ;  and  he  possessed 
the  happy  faculty  of  throwing  out  into  strong  relief  the  promi- 
nent features  of  a  subject,  so  that  it  could  not  fail  to  be  noticed 
and  retained  in  the  memory. 

That  Mr.  Drew,  as  a  preacher,  was  no  copyist  will  be  readily 
mferred ;  yet  it  may  excite  some  surprise  to  know  that,  except 
as  a  hearer,  he  was  little  acquainted  with  the  pulpit  perform- 
ances of  others.  He  may  have  occasionally  looked  into  a 
printed  discourse;  but  until,  as  the  editor  of  a  magazine  and  a 
reviewer,  it  became  to  him  a  matter  of  business,  we  question 
whether  he  had  read  through  a  volume  of  sermons  during  hia 
whole  life. 


SECTION  XXXI. 

Mr.  Drew's  intellectual  character. 

In  attempting  to  estimate  Mr.  Drew's  intellectual  powers,  the 
biographer  feels  not  only  his  incompetency,  but  the  peculiar 
difficulty  arising  from  near  relationship, — the  difficulty  of  doing 
justice  to  his  subject,  and  avoiding  the  suspicion  of  over-state- 
ment. Happily  the  facts  are  before  the  reader.  From  these, 
in  connection  with  Mr.  D.'s  publications,  he  can  form  his  own 
opinion,  and  correct  what,  in  this  summary,  he  may  deem  erro- 
neous. 

To  maintain  that  Mr.  Drew  was  benefited  by  ignorance  may 
seem,  at  first,  paradoxical  ;  yet  with  certain  limitations,  it  ap- 
pears to  be  true.  Must  it  not  be  admitted,  that  for  much  of  his 
celebrity  he  was  indebted,  not  merely  to  absolute  greatness  of 
mind,  but  to  the  remarkable  contrast  between  his  vigorous  intel- 
lect and  the  unpropitious  circumstancss  under  which  it  was 
developed  ?  In  a  letter  to  Dr.  Kidd,  already  quoted,  Mr.  D. 
himself  suggests  the  doubt,  whether  his  early  poverty  and  igno- 
rance were  a  misfortune;  since  these  afterwaici  attracted  that 
notice  and  procured  for  him  that  patronage  which  otherwise 
might  not  have  been  bestowed.    But  there  is  another  sense  in 


HIS  UfTELLECTCAL  CHABACTEK. 


305 


which  the  proposition  may  be  true.  The  majority  of  charac- 
ters are  formed  and  moulded  by  circumstances.  His  evidently 
did  not,  in  the  main,  grow  out  of  circumstances,  but  arose  in 
opposition  to  them  ;  and  so  far  it  was  original.  Yet  we  think 
there  might  have  been  much  less  originality  than  is  to  be  found 
in  his  writings,  had  his  reading  been  more  extensive.  His  igno- 
rance of  books,  and  consequently  of  systems,  compelled  him, 
if  he  exercised  his  thoughts  at  all,  to  think  for  himself;  it  led 
him  to  form  his  opinions  according  to  evidence,  and  not  accor- 
ding to  authority  ;  and,  being  necessarily  thrown  upon  his  own 
mental  resources,  his  ideas  were  original  without  his  knowing 
that  they  were  so.  It  may  be  further  remarked,  that  this  ne- 
cessity of  thinking  out  his  way  begot  a  habit  of  close,  rigid 
scrutiny,  which  was  to  him  what  the  result  of  mathematical 
study  is  to  an  educated  man.  Will  it  be  said,  that  if  this  be 
true,  it  will  prove  ignorance  and  the  absence  of  education  to  be 
a  blessing  ?  We  answer.  No  :  for  under  the  mental  privations 
against  whicli  Mr.  D.  had  to  struggle,  not  one  man  in  a  thousand 
would  ever  think  at  all.  The  very  fact  and  manner  of  his  rising 
superior  to  such  obstacles,  show  him  to  be,  what  we  think  he 
may  be  truly  termed,  an  original  tuinkek. 

There  are  some  readers  of  biography  who  are  scarcely  sat- 
isfied that  a  narrative  is  faithful,  unless  they  can  trace  in  the  6oy 
the  lineaments  of  the  man.  These  may  experience  a  feeling  of 
disappointment  in  the  perusal  of  the  foregoing  pages.  The  bold 
and  fearless  daring  of  the  character  is  plainly  discoverable,  but 
there  was  little  else  in  Mr.  D.'s  early  years  indicative  of  high 
mental  powers.  He  presents  a  remarkable  contrast  to  some 
distinguished  individuals,  whose  intellect,  developed  even  in 
childhood,  reminds  us  of  those  tropical  plants  whose  buds 
scarcely  know  a  state  of  rest,  but  unfold  as  soon  as  they  are 
formed.  His  mind,  in  its  growth,  rather  resembled  the  vegeta- 
ble productions  of  the  arctic  regions,  which,  remaining  dormant 
and  apparently  lifeless  through  a  rigorous  and  protracted  win- 
ter, burst  suddenly  into  foliage,  flower,  and  fruit. 

Both  his  memory  and  reasoning  powers  were  subject  to  se- 
vere discipHne.  When  he  first  felt  a  thirst  for  knowledge  he 
was  too  poor  to  purchase  books.  Those  which  were  lent  him 
he  could  not,  after  glancing  at  their  contents,  lay  aside  for  the 
purpose  of  reference  :  it  was  necessary  to  read  and  return.  He 
did  so  ;  but  what  he  read  he  laboured  to  make  his  own.*  To 

*  An  observation  which  will  be  found  in  the  biography  of  the  late  Rob- 
ert Hall,  is  not  inapplicable  to  Mr.  Drew.    "  He  did  not  then  read  much. 
Cc3 


306 


LIFE  OF  SAMUEL  DREW. 


this  practice,  and  the  daily  habit  of  discussing  topics  and  rela- 
ting facts,  the  knowledge  of  which  he  obtained  by  reading,  may 
be  attributed  the  fund  of  information  which  lie  possessed  even 
when  he  was  under  the  necessity  of  labouring  diligently  with 
his  hands  for  food  and  raiment. 

His  own  views  of  his  abilities  and  attainments,  expressed  in 
a  letter  to  Dr.  Kidd,  June,  1814,  may  be  quoted  in  confirmation 
of  these  remarks.  "  Alas  !  my  friend,  I  am  far  from  being 
learned,  according  to  the  common  acceptation  of  the  term.  I 
am  totally  ignorant  of  every  language  except  my  own,  and  my 
reading  has  not  been  very  diversified.  Perhaps  I  think  rather 
more  than  I  read,  and  am  more  indebted  to  a  vigorous  intellect, 
for  the  little  acquirements  I  have  made,  than  to  those  sources 
which  learning  in  general  teaches  us  to  explore.  I  have  nothing 
which  I  have  not  received,  and,  therefore,  have  no  room  for 
glorying.  My  literary  history,  in  all  its  parts,  would  exhibit 
a  curious  biographical  feature." 

Without  instituting  a  comparison  between  Mr.  Drew  and  any 
other  individual,  he  claims  our  regard,  as  possessing  that  unaf- 
fected simplicity  which  is  generally  the  accompaniment  of  true 
mental  greatness.  It  is,  perhaps,  no  less  a  testimony  to  his 
intellectual  supeiiority,  than  to  his  sterling  every-day  worth, 
that  to  those  who  knew  him  intimately,  he  appeared  not  so 
much  the  great  man  or  the  philosopher,  as  tlie  familiar  adviser 
and  confidential  friend.  Taough,  as  an  intimate  acquaintance 
remarks,  "  to  be  with  him  was  like  breathing  an  intellectual 
atmosphere,"  yet  the  subjects  with  which  his  tlioughts  were 
usually  conversant,  did  not  unfit  him  for,  or  place  him  above, 
the  ordinary  concerns  of  life.  Of  him  absence  of  mind  could 
never  be  truly  predicated.  However  his  thoughts  might  soar, 
they  were  never  lost  in  clouds : — they  extended  to  little  things 
as  well  as  great. 

There  were  two  or  three  mental  qualities  for  which  he  was 
always  remarkable.  One,  which  has  been  noticed  in  an  earlier 
page,  is,  his  almost  intuitive  perception  of  the  bearings  and  re- 
mote consequences  of  any  proposition  in  moral  science  : — the 
facility  with  which  he  wouhl  analyze  a  sophism,  and  expose  hs 
fallacy,  was  also  a  characteristic.  However  an  erroneous  posi- 
tion might  be  disguised,  it  could  not  stand  his  scrutiny.  He 

A  page,  indeed,  was  to  him  more  serviceable  than  a  volume  to  many. 
Hints  from  reading  or  discourse,  passing  through  his  great  mind  expan- 
ded into  treatises  and  systems,  until  the  adopted  was  lost  in  the  begotten 
so  much  so,  that  the  whole  appeared  original." — page  63.  13mo. 


niS  INTELLECTtTAL  CHARACTER. 


307 


would  instantly  strip  off  its  specious  covering,  and  expose  its 
deformity.  He  seemed  always  to  perceive  clearly  the  direc- 
tion in  which  inquiry  might  be  pushed  to  a  satisfactory  conclu- 
sion ; — to  see  the  boundaries  beyond  which  human  knowledge 
cannot  pass  ;  and  to  mark  the  fitness  or  the  unfitness  of  a  sub- 
ject for  man's  reasoning  powers.  To  attempt  an  explanation 
of  the  inexplicable,  or  a  comprehension  of  the  incomprehensible, 
was  an  error  into  which,  we  believe,  he  never  fell ;  nor  did  he, 
like  many  metaphysicians,  lose  himself  in  a  misty  region.  "  I 
am  never  satisfied,"  he  has  said,  "  unless  I  feel  the  ground  as 
I  go."  We  do  not  term  him  a  subtle  reasoner ;  because  the  epi- 
thet implies  artifice,  which  he  ever  disdained  ;  but  he  was  an 
ACUTE  reasoiiiir,  and  his  mental  vision  was  eminently  clear  and 
PENETRATING.  That  he  was  also  a  profound  thinker,  we  be- 
lieve his  works  abundantly  testify.* 

Another  feature  in  his  intellectual  portrait  claims  our  notice. 
There  are  many  individuals  w^ho  occasionally  rouse  themselves 
to  great  menial  effort,  but  hasten  to  escape  from  it,  and  relapse 
into  indolent  contemplation  or  animal  enjoyment.  Mr.  Drew 
was  a  LABORIOUS  tiiinker,  and  his  motto  was  perseverance.  If 
he  met  with  a  difficulty,  he  did  not  pass  it  by,  but  was  sure  to 
grapple  with  it.  Unlike  those  animals  of  the  feline  class,  that 
are  daunted  if  the  first  spring  prove  unsuccessful,  he  put  forth 
additional  energies  until  the  obstacle  was  overcome. 

With  any  inquiry  that  greatly  engaged  his  attention,  his  mind 
would  be  so  incessantly  occupied  that  thought  became  spon- 
taneous ;  and  oven  in  his  reveries  he  was  usually  dwelling 
on  lofty  and  sublime  subjects.  Observing  him  sitting  silent 
and  thoughtful  among  a  family  party,  a  young  person  present 
said,  "  Mr.  Drew,  what  are  you  thinking  about  1" — "  Wliy,  I  was 
just  then  thinking,"  he  replied,  "  that,  as  a  moment  is  at  every 
part  of  creation  at  the  same  time,  so  is  God  everywhere." — 
"  Similar  instances,"  says  the  gentleman  who  related  the 
circumstance,  "I  have  known  to  occur,  not  seldom.   Mr.  Drew's 

*  Mr.  Drew's  talent  for  profound  criticism  may  be  inferred  from  the  fol- 
lowing remark,  in  a  letter  addressed  to  him  in  1807  by  Mr.  Davies  Gil- 
bert : — "  I  have  deferred  writing  to  you  from  a  desire  of  communicating 
the  sentiments  of  Lord  Malmesbury  and  Lord  Fitzharris,  respecting  the 
observations  you  were  so  good  as  to  send  me  on  Mr.  Harris's  Hermes  and 
Dialogues.  I  concluded  you  could  not  object  to  my  exhibiting  to  the  son 
and  grandson  of  Mr.  Harris,  observations  and  remarks  much  more  to  his 
honour  than  any  indiscriminate  praises.  A  few  days  ago.  Lord  Fitzhar- 
ris returned  the  paper,  expressing  himself  most  highly  pleased  and  grati- 
fied by  the  perusal  of  such  acute,  accurate,  and  liberal  criticisms,  on  a  work 
most  interesting  to  him." 


308 


LIFE  OF  SAMUJit  DREW. 


mind,  even  when  at  rest,  seemed  to  be  thinking — in  the  proper 
sense  of  the  term." 

Talking  at  one  time  on  dreaming,  and-  on  Professor  Stewart's 
attempted  solution  of  its  phenomena,  he  remarked,  in  confirm- 
ation of  the  professor's  views,  "  Dreams  frequently  take  their 
complexion  from  the  events  of  the  day.  When  the  mind  is 
absorbed  in,  or  particularly  anxious  about  any  subject,  it  will 
probably  revert  to  the  same  in  sleep.  While  I  was  writing  my 
Essay  on  the  Soul,  all  the  powers  of  my  mind  were  bent  upon 
it — it  occupied  my  whole  thoughts  by  day,  and  frequently  gave 
a  colouring  to  my  dreams  at  night.  On  one  occasion,  retiring 
to  bed  after  thinking  and  writing  as  usual,  a  train  of  argument 
presented  itself  to  me,  in  favour  of  my  subject,  entirely  new  and 
satisfactory.  I  followed  it  out,  in  all  its  bearings,  to  a  conclusion 
that  appeared  to  be  irresistible.  Overjoyed  T  awoke,  and  was 
surprised  to  know  that  it  was  a  dream.  The  outlines  of  the 
demonstration  being  fresh  in  my  recollection,  I  laid  hold  of 
them,  examined  them,  traced  them  up,  and  brought  them  to  the 
same  conclusion.  I  considered  and  reconsidered  the  argument, 
sifted  and  weighed  it,  and  was  satisfied  that  it  was  strong,  firm, 
and  substantial,  and  entirely  new  in  its  character.  I  esteemed 
it  the  most  fortunate  event  of  my  life.  I  then  thought  of  get- 
ting up,  and  striking  a  light,  that  I  might  put  down  the  heads ; 
but  altered  my  mind,  intending  to  do  it  in  the  morning,  and  suf- 
fered myself  to  fall  asleep.  When  the  morning  came,  I  did  not 
forget  the  circumstance,  but  had  entirely  lost  every  vestige  of 
the  argument  and  the  manner  of  reasoning,  nor  have  I  been 
able,  from  that  day  to  this,  to  recall  any  idea  of  it.  I  Tiave 
frequently  regretted  my  not  getting  up  immediately  and  mak- 
ing notes  of  it." 

"  Did  the  mode  of  reasoning  appear  to  you  stronger  than 
that  which  you  have  adopted  in  your  Essay  ?"  it  was  asked. 

"To  me  it  did  appear  so  at  that  time." 

"  But  you  are  satisfied  that  your  present  Essay  is  sufficiently 
firm  and  conclusive?" 

"  O  yes  ;  quite  so." 

"Then,  why  do  you  regret  the  loss  of  your  dream?" 
"  You  know  the  stronger  we  make  our  bulwarks,  and  the 
more  impregnable  our  fortifications,  the  better." 

In  an  early  letter  to  Dr.  Kidd  he  remarked,  "  The  evening 
is  a  time  which,  in  general,  I  find  most  congenial  to  thought. 
But  evening  as  well  as  morning  is  frequently  wanted  for  some- 
thing more  domestic  than  abstract  speculations."    He  subse- 


BIS  INTELLECTUAL  CBARACTEB. 


309 


quently  adds,  "  There  are  certain  times  when  I  can  write  with 
ease  and  satisfaction  to  myself,  but  there  are  too  many  others 
in  which  the  mind  seems  frozen,  and  in  which  all  I  write  is  fit 
only  to  be  destroyed.  Such  are  the  ebbs  and  flows  to  which 
my  mind  is  subject." 

During  the  closing  days  of  his  life,  his  intellect  seemed  to  be 
contending  with  the  paralyzing  efTects  of  disease.  Fragments 
of  thoughts,  apparently  disjointed  and  without  connection,  but 
probably  linked  by  si.ine  unknown  association  with  the  train  of 
ideas  passing  involuntarily  through  his  mind,  were  sometimes 
uttered.  At  other  seasons,  he  would  apparently  be  engaged 
in  earnest  conversation  or  a  public  address,  in  which  some  em- 
phatic remark,  or  a  few  words  of  a  poetical  quotation,  would 
break  forth.  This  last  scene  of  his  mortal  existence  furnished 
a  mournful  illustration  of  the  mind's  activity,  while  physical 
exhaustion  deprived  it  of  the  power  of  controlling,  concentrat- 
ing, and  wielding  thought  at  will. 

With  the  feeling  and  fancj-  of  a  poet,  and  the  excursive 
glance  of  a  philosepher,  Mr.  Drew  pos  lessed,  in  a  remarkable 
degree,  a  quality  which  seldom  enters  into  such  combination. 
Resembling,  in  this  particular,  his  friend  Dr.  Adam  Clarke, 
and,  in  some  others  ;ilso,  a  man  whom,  in  early  life,  he  esteemed 
a  model — Dr.  Benjamin  Franklin, — he  had  a  plain,  patient,  busi- 
ness-like, matter-of-fact  understanding,  which  qualified  him  to 
examine  the  details  as  well  as  to  grasp  the  whole  of  any  sub- 
ject. Thus  gifted,  he  would  probably  have  shone  in  mathe- 
matical investigation,  had  he  chosen  that  path  to  eminence. 
Beneficially,  perhaps,  for  the  community,  his  views  were 
directed  to  mo-al  science,  and  to  those  fundamental  truths  upon 
which  all  sound  morality  is  built.  There  are  many  mathema- 
ticians; but  there  are  comparatively  few  who  devote  themselves 
to  the  philosophy  of  mind. 

Mr.  Drew  did  not  think,  with  the  late  gifted  Robert  Hall,  that 
metaphysical  studies  "yield  no  fruit,"  and  that  they  are  merely 
an  "arena"  for  liie  dipplay  of  "  intellectual  gladiatorship  ;"  nor 
did  he  concur  in  opinion  with  the  celebrated  Edmund  Burke,  that 
"  when  we  go  one  step  beyond  the  immediate,  sensible  qualities 
of  things,  we  go  out  of  our  depth."  "  The  science  of  mind,"  he 
has  said,  "is  as  yet  in  its  infancy — it  is  but  little  known.  I 
wish  men  would  think  more.  Whitefield  and  Wesley  gave  an 
impulse  to  the  religious  world,  the  effects  of  which  we  now 
feel,  and  which,  I  hope,  will  never  subside.  A  similar  impulse 
was  given  by  Locke  and  Reid  to  the  thinking  world  ;  but  it  has 
been  faintly  followed  up.    Hereafter,  I  believe,  some  meia- 


310 


LIFB  OF  SAMUEL  DREW. 


physical  Columbus  will  arise,  traverse  vast  oceans  of  thought, 
and  explore  regions  now  undiscovered,  to  which  our  little  minds 
and  weak  ideas  do  not  enable  us  to  soar." 

While  thus  anticipating  the  achievements  of  the  reasoning 
faculty,  he  did  not  forget,  that  man,  in  his  present  state  of  being, 
can  "  see  but  in  part,  and  know  but  in  part."  Delineating  pro- 
bably, his  own  mental  character,  he  once  remarked,  "  The 
human  mind,  dissatisfied  with  past  attainments,  looks  forward 
into  the  boundless  ocean  of  futurity,  and  darts  into  the  obscure 
recesses  of  hidden  truth  with  insatiable  eagerness.  It  is  ever 
on  the  wing ;  pursuing,  with  restless  anxiety,  those  objects 
which  just  appear  to  tempt  its  excursions,  and  then  retire  to 
mock  Its  hopes, — till,  wearied  with  the  unequal  flight,  it  is 
compelled  to  acknowledge  the  darkness  which  hovers  round  it, 
and,  if  properly  instructed,  to  seek  repose  in  the  declarations 
of  God." 

A  further  exhibition  of  his  sentiments  and  intellectual  charac- 
ter will  be  seen  in  the  following  sentences  written  by  him,  in 
1831,  in  a  lady's  album. 

"  How  valuable  soever  scientific  attainments  may  be,  in  refe- 
rence to  our  present  state,  it  is  very  doubtful  if  they  retain  any 
direct  importance  in  relation  to  eternity.  Another  mode  of  be- 
ing may  bring  with  it  new  modes  of  thinking,  and  a  new  class 
of  thoughts,  which  will  have  but  a  remote  connection  with  our 
earthly  analogies,  principles,  and  processes  of  reasoning.  Of 
these,  at  present,  we  can  form  no  adequate  conceptions. 

"  Our  passport  to  heaven  is  moral  excellence,  righteousness, 
and  holiness.  Love  to  God,  and  love  towards  all  the  celestial 
inhabitants,  constitute  tiie  only  currency  of  that  immaculate 
abode.  So  far  as  our  scientific  acquisitions  have  been  rendered 
subservient  to  these  momentous  purposes,  their  excellence  bears 
the  stamp  of  immortality  ;  but  beyond  this,  perhaps,  they  have 
no  value. 

"  Scientific  knowledge  may  be  compared  to  flowers  which 
regale  our  senses  with  their  fragrance,  but  will  not  bear  trans- 
planting into  that  region  which  lies  beyond  the  grave.  We 
may,  nevertheles.<i,  extract  from  them  a  moral  essence  which, 
preserved  with  care,  will  become  imperishable. 

"  The  amaranth  of  heaven  may  be  found  in  the  pages  of 
revelation.  It  will  flourish  both  in  this  world,  and  that  which 
is  to  come : — it  will  never  fade.  It  is  an  asbestos  which  the 
general  conflagration  will  have  no  power  to  destroy  ;  and  it 
will  yield  a  pure  aroma  to  regale  the  disembodied  spirits  for 
aver." 


niS  IKTELLECTCAL  CHARACTER. 


311 


f 


The  literary  friends  of  Mr.  Drew  were  numerous  ;  and  sev- 
eral of  those  gentlemen  who  knew  him  intimately,  in  private 
as  well  as  public,  have  spontaneously  given  their  opinions  of 
his  character  and  mental  endowments.  As  a  means  of  ena- 
bling the  reader  to  estimate  the  integrity  of  the  remarlis  which 
have  been  made,  a  few  of  those  opinions  the  biographer  ven- 
tures to  introduce,  prefacing  them  by  one  which  has  already 
appeared  io  print. 

"  Of  Mr.  Drew's  personal  character  it  is  not  easy  to  speak 
too  highly.  He  was  not  puffed  up  by  the  success  which 
crowned  his  unassisted  eilbrts  in  the  pursuit  of  letters  ;  and, 
thougii  Iiis  superiority  of  mind  was  easily  discernible  in  his 
conversation,  yet  he  was  exceedingly  unassuming  and  unosten- 
tatious. His  piety,  like  his  habits  generally,  was  not  showy, 
but  it  was  consistent.  He  was  a  real  Cliristian  philosopher. 
His  understanding  was  of  an  elevated  order.  His  mind  was 
richly  endowed  by  nature,  and  it  was  highly  cultivated  by  dili- 
gent study,  and  by  unwearied  assiduity  ;  so  that  his  society 
was  always  a  luxury  both  to  the  literate  and  the  illiterate,  to 
the  scholar  and  to  the  Christian.  His  philosophy  and  his 
piety  born  immediately  and  equally  on  the  happiness  of  life 
and  the  daily  habits  of.  mankind ;  and  they  were  equally  free 
from  the  pedantry  of  human  learning,  and  from  the  solemn 
and  disgusting  farce  of  a  religious  austerity.  In  the  decease 
of  Adam.  Clarke,  and  Richard  Watson,  and  Samuel  Drew, 
the  Methodist  connection  has  lost  three  of  its  brightest  lumi- 
nacies.  They  have  shone  a  while  together  in  the  church  be- 
low, and  they  have  set  nearly  together  ;  but  they  are  only  set 
to  rise  again,  where  suns  and  stars  shall  set  no  more."* 

"  In  my  interviews  with  Mr.  Drew,"  observes  a  gentleman 
with  whom  he  was  acquainted  in  London,  "  I  have  had  fre- 
quent opportunities  of  admiring  his  masterly  mind,  and  the 
facility  with  which  he  could  enter  into  the  most  abstract  specu- 
lations of  moral  philosophy. and  metaphysics  ;  so  much  so  that 
I  have  always  considered  him  as  the  Locke  of  the  nineteenth 
century.  I  remember  one  particular  instance  in  which  I  con- 
sulted him  on  a  proposed  Essay  on  '  Human  Motives,'  when  he 
at  once  entered  on  the  inquiry,  and,  by  a  train  of  the  most  lu- 
minous and  convincing  arguments,  proved  the  difficulty  of  doing 
the  subject  justice,  owing  to  the  inconsistencies  and  anomalies 
by  which  it  was  surrounded.  I  have  often  since  regretted  that 
I  did  not  commit  his  valuable  observations  to  writing ;  since, 
from  this  omission,  they  have  wholly  escaped  my  memory. 


•  Christian  Advocate,  April  1,  1833. 


312 


LIFE  or  SAUTEL  DREW. 


On  every  occasion  I  found  him  willing  to  open  the  stores  of 
his  mind  for  my  assistance  ;  and  to  his  kindness  I  owe  much 
valuable  information  on  subjects  of  moral  philosophy." 

"  The  longer,"  says  the  Rev.  Dr.  Townley,  "  I  was  honoured 
with  Mr.  Drew's  friendship,  the  more  I  admired  him.  His 
vigour  and  grasp  of  intellect  were  united  with  such  Christian 
simplicity  and  genuine  piety  as  placed  him  high  in  the  scale 
of  intelligent  beings ;  while  his  singular  modesty,  and  cheer- 
fulness of  disposition,  joined  to  his  exhaustless  fund  of  anec- 
dote and  interesting  information,  rendered  him  a  delightful 
friend  and  companion." 

Dr.  Olinihus  Gregory,  whose  discrimination  will  scarcely 
be  questioned,  does  not  indeed,  specify  particulars,  but  sums  up 
his  opinion  of  Mr.  Drew  in  these  words : — "  He  was  a  man 
whose  character  exhibited  an  extraordinary  union  of  tiie  finest 
intellectual  and  moral  attributes  of  our  nature,  and  whose 
name,  talents,  and  labours  must  be  long  held  in  high  venera- 
tion." 

Davies  Gilbert,  Esq.,  in  reply  to  the  biographer's  applica- 
tion for  the  loan  of  any  letters  of  Mr.  D.'s  writing,  says,  "I 
shall  be  happy  to  do  every  thing  in  my  power  to  assist  you  in 
a  work  for  commemorating  one  who  has  done  so  much  honour 
to  our  country,  and  who  has  been  styled  the  English  Plato." 

It  would  be  easy  to  quote  letters  of  indiscriminate  praise 
from  individuals  little  known  ;  but  this  would  neither  add  to 
Mr.  Drew's  reputation,  nor  enable  the  reader  to  form  a  correct 
estimate  of  his  talents.  One  of  the  these  laudatory  epistles, 
now  before  the  writer,  by  an  amusing  ellipsis,  addresses  Mr. 
Drew  as  "  Author  of  the  Immortality  of  the  Soul  and  Resur- 
rection of  the  Body."  The  same  attribute  of  Deity  was  as- 
cribed to  him  in  a  public  printed  notice,  in  one  of  the  northern 
counties,  announcing  that  a  sermon  was  to  be  preached  by  him 
on  the  anniversary  of  a  charitable  institution.* 

We  close  this  section  with  two  letters  of  Mr.  Drew  to  the 
daughters  of  his  friend  Dr.  Adam  Clarke.  One  of  these  let- 
ters is  the  last  he  ever  wrote,  except  on  personal  topics ;  and 

*  Mr.  Drew  once  related;  in  his  naturally  humorous  manner,  that, 
while  sitting  in  a  friend's  house,  in  a  considerable  town  in  Devonshire, 
his  attention  was  arrested  by  the  voice  of  the  town  crier  in  the  street, 
giving  notice,  with  his  usual  formality,  that  "  Mr.  Drew,  from  Cornwall, 
author  of  the  mortalili/  and  immorlali/y  of  the  soul,  will  preach  this  even- 
ing in  the  Methodist  chapel."  With  him  it  was  the  occasion  of  a 
smile  ;  but  the  rest  of  the  company  felt  excessively  mortified  at  the 
strange  misapprehension  of  their  civic  orator. 


ms  INTELLECTUAL  CHARACTER. 


313 


both  will  probably  be  esteemed  a  pleasing  and  valuable  illus- 
tration of  his  intellectual  and  religious  character. 

"  33  Xewgate-street,  London, 
"Dec.  15th,  1831. 
"  No,  no,  my  dear  friend.  I  have  not  forgotten  you  ;  nor  am 
I  altogether  chargeable  with  that  negligence  with  which  I 
imagine  you  have  accused  me.  I  must,  however,  acknowledge, 
that  appearances  are  against  me  ;  for,  on  opening  your  letter, 
since  I  began  this,  I  am  startled  with  its  date,  Nov.  10th, 
which  is  now  more  than  a  month  since,  and  therefore,  perhaps, 
it  will  be  rather  imprudent  for  me  to  say  any  thing  more  on 
this  subject.  I  was  glad  to  learn  from  your  letter  thai  you 
reached  your  home  in  safety,  and  found  all  your  family  well. 
Health  is  an  invaluable  blessing,  for  the  loss  of  which  no 
worldly  good  can  make  us  an  adequate  compensation.  May 
this  inestimable  blessing  continue  to  you,  and  every  member  of 
your  family. 

"  In  taking  a  survey  of  life  and  its  vicissitudes,  we  cannot 
avoid  concluding,  that  the  economy  of  God,  in  the  moral  gov 
ernment  of  the  world,  is  involved  in  impenetrable  shadows 
and  encircled  with  clouds  which  nothing  but  the  light  of  eter- 
nity can  dispel.  A  conviction,  however,  that  we  see  but  in 
part,  and  know  but  in  part, — that  causes  sometimes  appeaf 
without  their  effects,  and,  not  unfrequently,  effects  without 
their  causes, — will  reconcile  us  to  t!ie  gloomy  dispensations  of 
Divine  Providence,  by  furnishing  us  with  an  assurance  of  '  an- 
other and  a  belter  world.'  In  our  present  state,  unmingled 
gratification  cannot  be  our  lot ;  nor,  if  it  were  attainable,  wonld 
it  be  congenial  to  the  physical  constitution  of  man,  either  men- 
tal or  corporeal.  Nature  requires  a  vicissitude  of  seasons  ; 
vegetation  and  animal  nature  demand  repose  ;  and  ail  our  en- 
joyments derive  a  more  acute  relish  from  occasional  interrup- 
tions, and  the  reverses  to  which  we  are  exposed  :  nor  can  we, 
my  friend,  on  this  ground,  presume  to  impeach  the  goodness 
of  God.  We  learn  in  the  school  of  adversity  many  valuable 
lessons,  which  prosperity  could  never  teach;  and  are  <lirected, 
by  what  we  sometimes  endure,  to  weigh  anchor,  and  look  be- 
yond this  inclement  clime,  to  some  harbour  in  which  'tempests 
•will  not  beat,  rror  oceans  roar.'  If  nothing  but.  enjoyment 
were  allotted  us  here,  we  should  be  ready  to  say,  '  Master,  it 
is  good  for  us  to  be  here,'  and,  pleased  with  our  situation,  for- 
get that  w-e  are  on  a  journey  to  the  abodes  of  immortality! 
Were  human  nature  unpolluted  by  sin,  uninterrupted  enjoy- 


314 


LIFE  OF  SAMUEL  DREW. 


ment  might  suit  its  character  ;  this  must  now  be  reserved  for  a 
state  from  which  moral  evil  shall  be  for  ever  excluded. 
*  *  *  *  *  * 

"But  why,  my  friend,  should  you  be  surprised  at  any  of  the 
events  of  this  life,  when  you  look  around  on  the  world  in 
which  we  live  ?  When  the  enemies  of  Daniel  sought  occasion 
against  liini,  they  turned  his  piety  into  an  offence,  and  procured 
for  him  a  den  of  lions  ! 

"  But  my  paper  admonishes  me  that  I  have  only  just  room 
to  desire  my  kind  remembrance  to  Mr.  Rowley,  and  to  assure 
his  wife,  that  a  letter  from  her  will  always  be  highly  accept- 
able to  her  sincere  friend,  and  old  acquaintance, 

"Samuel  Drew. 

"  Mrs.  Rowley,  Worcester.'" 

"  15  Owen's  Row,  Goswell-street, 
"  January  8th,  1833. 

"My  very  dear  Friend, 
"  It  has  very  generally  been  thought,  and  perhaps  with 
much  reason,  that  the  primary  spring  of  action  in  Deity  is  be- 
nevolence ;  and,  as  a  natural  consequence,  those  among  his 
intelligent  creatures  bear  the  strongest  resemblance  to  Him 
who  are  actuated  by  the  same  exalted  principle.  The  benev- 
olence of  Deity  shines  in  creation,  and  may  be  traced  in  the 
order  and  economy  of  Divine  Providence.  It  was  conspicu- 
ous in  the  primeval  stale  of  man,  is  more  fully  developed  in 
the  principles  of  the  gospel,  but  shines  with  still  brighter  lustre 
in  the  effects  produced  by  renovating  grace  on  the  human 
heart. 

"When  benevolence  was  effaced  by  sin,  M'ar,  inhumanity, 
oppression,  and  murder  occupied  its  place :  and  to  this  source 
we  may  trace  the  various  miseries  of  human  life.  Earth,  re- 
newed in  righteousness,  will  behold  the  dominion  of  benevo- 
lence re-established.  In  heaven,  hs  empire  knows  no  limits, 
no  interruption,  and  fears  no  termination.  It  binds  all  the  ce- 
lestial inhabitants  in  amity  and  love ;  this  being  the  sacred  at- 
mosph(!re  which  they  inhale  from  the  throne  of  the  eternal 
God. 

"  The  progress  of  genuine  religion  may  be  fairly  estimated 
by  the  extension  and  prevalence  of  this  godlike  attribute.  It 
includes  love  to  God,  and  love  to  man  ;  and  must,  therefore, 
have  its  seal  in  the  heart,  while  its  blessed  effects  stand  devel- 
oped in  the  Christian's  life.  Considering  the  moral  relation  in 
which  we  stand  to  the  Father  of  the  spirits  of  all  flesh,  and  the 


CHARACTER  OF  HIS  WRITINGS. 


315 


ground  we  occupy,  both  duty  and  interest  urge  us  to  promote  its 
influence. 

"  Be  it,  then,  my  dear  friend,  both  your  aim  and  mine  to  seek 
and  enjoy  the  love  of  God  shed  abroad  in  our  hearts,  that,  hav- 
ing this  treasure  in  our  earthen  vessels,  we  may  contemplate 
with  ecstasy,  for  ever,  that  sublime  but  incomprehensible  ex- 
pression— '  God  is  love.' 

"  Wishing,  my  dear  friend,  you  and  yours  every  blessing  for 
time  and  eternity, 

"I  remain,  with  sincere  affection, 

"  Your  old  acquaintance  and  correspondent, 

"  Samuel  Drew. 
"  Mrs.  Richard  Smith,  Stoke-Xewington.'" 


SECTION  XXXII. 

Char.icter  of  Mr.  Drew's  Writings. 

Though  presenting  few  attractions  for  superficial  readers, 
Mr.  Drew's  original  treatises  are  too  well  known  to  the  thinking 
part  of  the  community  to  require,  in  this  place,  minute  exam- 
ination. They  have  been  long  before  the  public,  and  from  the 
wisest  and  the  best  have  received  the  meed  of  approbation. 
Little,  therefore,  will  be  required  of  the  biographer,  but  to  offer 
a  few  general  remarks,  and  quote  the  opinions  of  more  prac- 
tised and  competent  judges  than  himself. 

Among  those  sincere  believers  in  Scripture  who  dare  not 
trust,  even  in  matters  of  ordinary  duty,  to  the  inferences  of 
their  own  judgment,  there  is  a  prejudice  against  all  attempts  to 
establish  or  confirm  by  reason  any  of  the  doctrines  of  rev- 
elation. There  are  individuals  also  who,  though  accustomed 
to  the  exercise  of  thought,  seem  to  dread  the  application  of 
reason  to  matters  of  faith,  lest  its  deductions  should  be  substi- 
tuted for  the  declarations  of  Scripture.  Mr.  Drew  was  obvi- 
ously not  of  this  number.  All  his  publications  tend  to  prove, 
that  reason,  while  it  authenticates  the  canon,  and  directs  us  in 
the  interpretation  of  Scripture,  leads  to  the  conviction,  that  in 
our  relation  to  each  other  here,  and  to  our  Creator  here  and 
hereafter,  we  need  some  other  rule  of  conduct  than  is  discov- 
erable by  nature's  feeble  and  uncertain  ray. 


316 


LIFE  OF  SAMUEL  DREW. 


Frequently  does  Mr.  Drew  remind  his  readers,  and  often  did 
he  reiterate  in  the  pulj)it,  that  at  the  precise  point  where  unas- 
sisted reason  fails,  and  vague  conjecture  meets  us  on  every 
hand,  the  light  of  revelation,  beaming  upon  our  understandings, 
dispels  the  glooiny  uncertainty,  and,  "•  shining  brighter  and 
brighter  unto  tiie  perfect  day,"  leads  on  to  "glory,  immor- 
tality, and  eternal  life." 

In  the  preface  to  his  Essay  on  the  Soul,  he  says,  "  The  great 
repository  of  sacred  knowledge  is  the  Bible  ;  and,  therefore, 
moral  philosophy  can  be  no  longer  right  than  while  it  acts  in 
concert  with  revelation.  I  consider  moral  truth  as  an  elevated 
mountain,  the  summit  of  which  revelation  unveils  to  the  eye 
of  faith,  without  involving  us  in  the  tedious  drudgery  of  painful 
speculations.  To  some  of  its  subliniiiies  philosophy  will  direct 
us,  through  a  labyrinth  of  intricacies  ;  but,  after  the  human  un- 
derstanding has  put  forth  all  her  efforts,  it  is  '  by  toil  and  art 
the  steep  ascent  we  gain.'  If,  however,  in  any  given  momentous 
instance,  the  tardy  movements  of  philosophy  will  lead  us  to 
the  same  conclusions  that  the  Bible  has  already  formed,  it 
affords  us  no  contemplible  evidence  of  its  authenticity:  and 
hence,  revelation  challenges  our  belief  in  those  instances  where 
we  can  trace  no  connection." 

"Scriptural  principles,"  it  is  remarked,  by  a  student  of  Mr. 
D.'s  works,  "  are  interwoven  through  the  whole  of  his  multi- 
farious labours  ;  and,  in  addition  to  liis  well-earned  reputation 
of  sound  philosophy,  must  be  added  the  delightful  thought,  that 
the  sum  and  substance  of  his  argumeiitatifm,  elaborate  and  co- 
gent as  it  is,  accords  with  the  dictates  of  eternal  truth.  In  the 
perusal  of  Mr.  Drew's  works,  this  is  felt  by  every  reader  capa- 
ble of  thinking  ;  and  none  but  such  need  be  at  the  trouble  of 
examination  ;  for  without  thought,  properly  pursued,  they  can 
be  neither  relished  nor  comprehended." 

The  opinion  of  Mr.  Whitaker,  in  his  critique  on  Mr.  Drew's 
earliest  publication,  cannot  be  attributed  to  the  partiality  of 
friendship,  or  the  condescension  of  patronage.  No  intimacy 
subsisted  prior  to  the  appearance  of  the  pamphlet;  and  the 
critic  informs  the  author,  that  the  favourable  article  in  the  Anti- 
Jacobin  was  written  "  in  the  fulness  of  his  heart,"  on  the  pe- 
rusal of  the  "  Remarks  :"— it  therefore  expresses  his  unbiased 
opinion.  "  We  here  behold,"  he  observes,  "a  shoemaker  of 
St.  Austell  encountering  a  stayiiiaker  of  Deal,  with  the  same 
weapons  of  unlettered  reiison,  teiupered,  indeed,  from  the  ar- 
mory of  God,  yet  deriving  their  principal  power  from  the  iia- 


CHARACTER  OF  HIS  WRITINGS. 


317 


live  vigour  of  the  arm  that  wields  them.  Samuel  Drew,  how- 
ever, is  greatly  superior  to  Thomas  Paine  in  the  justness  of 
his  remarks,  in  the  foreibleness  of  his  arguments,  and  in  the 
pointedness  of  his  refutations." 

It  is  equally  pleasing  to  know  that  this  little  work  was  not 
whhoiit  iis  use.  A  distinguished  Wesleyan  minister  says, 
"  When  I  was  stationed  at  Blackburn,  there  were  in  that  town 
many  professed  disciples  of  Paine.  Several  of  them  acknow- 
ledged, that  Mr.  Drew's  answer  to  the  first  part  of  the  '  Age  of 
Reason'  had  made  more  impression  on  their  minds,  and  occa- 
sioned them  more  difficulty  in  attempting  to  reply  to  its  argu- 
ments, than  any  other  work  that  had  fallen  into  their  hands." 


The  origin,  progress,  and  success  of  the  "  Essay  on  the 
Immateriality  and  Immortality  of  the  Human  Soul," — the  work 
which  established  Mr.  Drew's  fame  as  a  metaphysical  writer 
and  powerful  reasoner, — has  been  traced  in  an  earlier  page  : 
his  motives  for  giving  it  to  the  world  we  gather  from  his  own 
preface. 

"  The  ground  on  which  I  have  assumed  the  present  question 
is  simply  this — Have  we,  or  have  we  not,  any  rational  evidence 
of  the  soul's  immortality,  admitting  that  no  revelation  had  ever 
been  given  us  from  God  ?  If  we  have,  this  branch  of  infidelity 
loses  one  of  its  strongest  fortresses ;  if  not,  all  rational  proof 
of  the  immortality  of  the  soul  is  at  once  done  away. 

"A  subject  so  abstruse  in  its  nature,  and  whose  conse- 
quences extend  to  a  future  state  of  being,  must  necessarily  im- 
press some  obscurities  on  the  manner  of  its  investigation  ;  I 
have  avoided  all  in  my  power,  and  yet  many,  perhaps,  remain. 
It  must,  however,  be  remembered,  that  our  inability  to  compre- 
hend the  reasoning  by  which  a  fact  may  be  established,  is  no 
more  an  argument  against  its  legitimacy  than  it  is  against  the 
fact  itself.  The  ploughshare  of  reason,  may  be  driven  among 
the  rocks  of  error,  although  every  reader  may  not  be  able  to 
discern  the  furrow  which  it  makes. 

"Wheiher  the  present  work,  like  those  bubbles  on  the  pass- 
ing stream  which  float  along  and  then  expire,  will  engross  the 
attention  of  mankind  only  for  a  moment,  and  then  disappear — 
or  pass  onward  to  ages  which  its  author  can  never  reach — are 
points  which  events  can  alone  decide.  I  have  not  vanity  enough 
to  presume,  that  infallibility  has  impressed  her  footsteps  upon 
the  paragraphs  which  I  have  written  ;  the  arguments,  however, 
D  d  2 


318 


LIFE  OF  SAMUEL  DREW. 


are  such  as  have  produced  conviction  in  my  mind,  from  a  per- 
suasion ihat  they  arise  Crom  the  nature  of  the  soul,  and  the  fixed 
relation  of  things.  1  have  attempted  to  erect  this  fabric  on  such 
facts  and  propositions  as  are  incontrovertible,  and  have  endeav- 
oured to  trace  the  intermediate  ideas  which  appeared  to  stand 
in  accordance  with  one  another,  to  that  conclusion  which  I  had 
in  view. 

"  Should  what  I  have  written  be  made  instrumental  in  re- 
claiming but  one  from  the  fangs  of  infidelity,  or  in  preventing 
another  from  becoming  its  victim,  it  vvill  afford  me  a  consola- 
tion which  will  accompany  me  through  life,  and,  I  hope,  be  re- 
membered with  gratitude  through  all  eternity." 

The  first  critical  notice  of  the  Essay  on  the  Soul  appeared 
in  the  Anti-Jacobin  Review,  for  February,  1803.  In  this  there 
is  no  attempt  at  analysis,  but  a  general  admission  of  the  intrin- 
sic merit  of  the  work. 

"  This  Essay,"  says  the  Reviewer,  "  is  introduced  to  the 
world  under  the  auspices  of  the  Rev.  Jolui  Whitaker,  the  great 
and  good  rector  of  Ruan-Lanyhorne ;  to  whom  it  is  dedicated 
in  a  very  handsome  manner.  The  address,  indeed,  is  well 
conceived,  and  well  expressed.  The  preface  is  elegant  and 
appropriate. 

"  We  cannot  pretend  to  decide  absolutely  on  the  degree  of 
merit  which  it  possesses ;  or  the  rank  which  it  will  hereafter 
hold  in  the  metaphysical  world.  We  have  discovered,  we 
think,  a  few  errors  in  the  reasoning;  but  we  have  found  much 
to  applaud,  much  to  admire.  Of  his  subject,  in  general,  the 
author  is  a  master.  While  we  are  struck  with  a  chain  of  ar- 
gumentation strong  and  beautiful,  we  are  assured  that  this  is 
the  production  of  no  common  writer.  And,  in  thus  connecting 
ihe  author  with  his  work,  we  cannot  but  recollect,  with  wonder, 
that  he  is  the  untutored  child  of  nature;  deriving  no  advantage 
from  education  ;  indebted  only  and  immediately  to  Heaven  for 
a  reach  of  thought  astonishingly  great ! — for  a  mind  to  which 
all  the  matter  of  the  universe  seems  but  an  atom;  and  in  him- 
self exhibiting  a  splendid  proof,  that  the  soul  of  man  is  im- 
mortal .'" 

In  the  Annual  Review,  for  April,  1804,  the  Essay  is  criticised 
at  great  length,  and  its  contents  are  thus  analyzed. 

"  This  Essay  is  divided  into  two  parts.  The  first  treats  of 
the  immateriality,  and  the  second  of  the  immortality,  of  the 
human  soul.    In  reviewing  the  properties  of  matter,  the  author 


CHARACTER  OF  HIS  WRITINGS. 


319 


endeavours  to  establish,  that  every  thing  in  nature  is  inchided 
within  the  confines  of  matter  and  spirit ;  that  man  is  a  being 
compounded  of  both  ;  that  soli(hty,  magnitude,  figure,  and  ex- 
tension are  essential  to  matter;  that  spiritual  substances  may 
exist ;  that  substance  is  susceptible  of  definition ;  ihat  iis  posi- 
tive existence  may  be  deduced  from  those  qualities  of  mind 
which  have  no  positive  existence,  as  volition,  judgment,  and 
perception  ;  tliai  thinking  is  neither  essential  to  matter,  nor  its 
result,  or  modification ;  and  that  consciousness  is  not  a  quality 
superadded  to  matter.  From  the  properties  of  spirit,  accord- 
ing to  Mr.  Drew,  it  necessarily  follows,  that  no  created  being 
can  fully  comprehend  itself;  that  a  principle  of  consciousness 
is  essentially  immaterial ;  that  no  divisible  being  is  capable  of 
consciousness  ;  that  the  latter, is  not  an  adventitious  acquisition  ; 
that  matter  cannot  abstract;  that  the  soul  of  man  is  intelligent, 
can  anticipate, is  not  an  assemblage  of  independent  properties; 
that  its  immaterial  nature  is  proved  by  those  affections  and  in- 
tellectual endowments  which  are  inherent  in  it ;  and  that,  though 
sensation  may  be  annihilated,  the  human  soul  cannot  undergo 
destruction. 

"  In  the  second  part  of  his  work,  the  author  proceeds  to  ex- 
amine the  nature,  modes,  and  possibility  of  the  annihilation  of 
mind  ;  and  to  state  and  illustrate  various  and  subtle  arguments, 
from  which  it  is  inferred  that  the  thinking  principle  cannot  per- 
ish by  dissolution,  privation,  or  annihilation. 

"If,  in  treating  some  of  the  most  abstract  questions  which  can 
agitate  the  mind  of  man,  he  has  unconsciously  adopted  the 
sentiments  of  some  of  his  most  celebrated  precursors,  and  par- 
ticularly (as  it  strikes  us)  of  Baxter,  the  coincidence  cannot 
detract  from  his  sagacity  ;  and  if  the  first  metaphysicians  who 
have  ever  appeared  have  failed  in  securing  the  unqualified  as- 
sent of  the  thinking  part  of  their  species,  it  would  be  unreason- 
able to  expect  that  Mr.  Drew  should  have  laboured  with  more 
abundant  success.  Whoever  peruses  his  publication  with  can- 
dour and  attention  will  at  least  regard  it  as  an  extraordinary 
effort  of  untutored  genius,  and,  on  that  account,  entitled  to  the 
admiration  of  the  lettered  and  philosophical  world." 

We  have  elsewhere  noticed,  that  neither  Mr.  Drew's  Essay 
on  the  Identity  and  General  Resurrection  of  the  Body,  nor  his 
later  work  on  the  Being,  Attributes,  and  Providence  of  God, 
obtained  the  general  notice  of  the  reviewers.  Notwithstanding 
this  paucity  of  critical  remark,  the  general  scope  of  the  treatise 


320 


LIFE  OF  SAMUEL  DREW. 


on  the  Resurrection  may  be  found  in  the  author's  introductory 
observations. 

"  On  a  doctrine  so  important,  so  astonishing,  and  so  abstruse 
as  the  Resurrection  of  the  human  Body,  no  one  can  doubt  that 
difficulties  of  a  most  formidable  nature  liave  occurred.  He, 
therefore,  who  expects  to  find  in  the  work  before  him  all  ob- 
stacles totally  removed,  and  the  fact  substantiated  by  demon- 
strative evidence,  may  rest  himself  assured  that  he  will  be  dis- 
appointed. Demonstration  may,  perhaps,  be  demonstrated  to 
be  unattainable  in  the  present  case.  It  is  therefore  the  height 
of  folly  to  look  for  indubitable  certainty,  when  the  nature  of 
the  subject  points  out  to  us  the  reason  why  it  cannot  be  attained. 

"  Sensitive  proof  can  apply  only  to  objects  of  sense ;  and 
demonstration  is  confined  to  such  points  as  are  brought  into 
immediate  contact  with  our  principles  of  intuition.  But  neither 
oral  nor  historical  testimony  can  afford  any  higher  evidence 
than  moral  certainty.  This  species  of  proof  has,  nevertheless, 
an  undoubted  claim  upon  our  assent,  though  partially  destitute 
of  those  essential  ingredients  which  are  necessary  to  create 
positive  knowledge.  Indeed,  even  probability,  where  no  better 
evidence  is  attainable,  has  a  demand  on  our  belief.  And  he 
who,  in  this  case,  would  withhold  his  assent  from  a  given  fact 
because  the  evidence  adduced  rose  no  higher,  must  violate  the 
principles  of  his  intellectual  nature,  and  disbelieve  through  un- 
reasonable incredulity. 

"  That  the  dead  shall  be  raised  incorruptible,  and  we  shall 
be  changed, — and  that  all  who  are  in  their  graves  shall  come 
forth, — are  declarations  so  plainly  recorded  in  Scripture,  that 
no  one  who  admits  its  authority  can  doubt  the  fact.  And  I 
should  readily  allow  every  argument  to  be  superfluous  which 
might  be  drawn  from  other  sources,  if  all  those  persons  to 
whom  we  appeal,  were  to  admit  the  authenticity  of  the  sacred 
volume.  Unhappily,  this  is  not  the  case.  Men  of  skeptical 
minds  smile  at  those  arguments  which  are  founded  on  authority. 
To  that  which  is  human  they  refuse  to  submit,  and  they  doubt 
the  existence  of  that  which  is  divine.  To  substitute,  therefore, 
the  letter  of  Scripture  in  the  room  of  philosophical  disquisition, 
would  be  to  erect  a  tribunal  which  they  refuse  to  acknowledge, 
and  to  appeal  to  an  authority  which  they  spurn  with  contempt. 

"  With  these  views,  I  have  presumed  but  little  on  Scripture 
authority.  Such  passages  as  I  have  quoted,  I  have  surveyed 
in  a  philosophical  light,  and  thus  collected  a  mass  of  evidence 
which,  when  taken  in  the  aggregate,  1  flatter  myself,  will  si- 
lence contempt  where  it  cannot  produce  conviction.  The 


CHARACTER  OF  HIS  WRITINGS. 


321 


proofs  which  I  have  adduced  in  support  of  the  Resurrection 
may  be  considered  in  two  lights  :  first,  those  which,  though 
drawn  from  other  sources,  have  been  found  congenial  wiih  the 
principles  of  revelation  ;  and  secondly,  such  as  the  philosophy 
of  the  sacred  writings  has  held  out  to  illuminate  mankind. 
And  if,  from  the  result  of  all,  the  fact  shall  appear  to  be  so 
far  rescued  from  objections,  and  placed  in  such  a  light,  as  to 
be  rendered  morally  certain,  I  shall  not  think  that  I  have  writ- 
ten in  vain." 

The  important  topic  thus  propounded  is  treated  in  the  fol- 
lowing order : 

After  a  general  view  of  the  subject,  and  of  the  nature  and 
perfections  of  Deity,  the  author  proceeds  to  show,  that,  from 
God's  immutability  and  man's  primeval  state,  the  human  body 
must  have  been  originally  immortal,  and  that  this  immortality, 
notwithstanding  the  natural  tendency  of  the  parts  to  dissolution, 
was  secured  by  the  efficacy  of  the  tree  of  life.  He  then  con- 
siders the  positive  effect  of  moral  evil  upon  the  body,  and  ar- 
gues, that  when  moral  evil  is  done  away,  as  the  perfecting  act 
of  the  great  work  of  redemption,  all  its  positive  effects  must  cease, 
and  man,  in  reference  to  death,  will  be  placed  in  his  original  cir- 
cumstances,—death  having  "no  more  dominion  over  him." 

The  resurrection  of  the  body  being  thus  viewed  as  a  neces- 
sary result  of  the  destruction  of  sin,  the  question  of  identity 
immediately  presents  itself.  This  the  author  considers  in  a 
chapter  allotted  to  its  investigation — first  generally,  and  then 
in  reference  to  the  human  body.  From  this  he  proceeds  to 
trace,  at  length,  the  analogy  between  vegetation  and  the  resur- 
rection. He  thence  argues,  that  the  resurrection  has  fewer 
difficulties  than  vegetation — that  the  objections  usually  ad- 
vanced against  the  one  may  be  equally  applied  to  the  other — • 
that,  as  seed-time  and  harvest  cannot  be  blended,  so  time  must 
elapse  between  death  and  the  resurrection — and  that  St.  Paul, 
when  illustrating  the  doctrine  of  the  resurrection  by  the  vegeta- 
tive process,  spoke  the  language  of  sound  philosophy. 

That  bodily  identity  must  consist  in  some  immoveable  germ, 
or  stamen,  is  endeavoured  to  be  proved  positively  and  nega- 
tively. The  affirmative  of  this  proposition  is  deduced  from 
various  considerations.  It  is  shown  negatively,  that  the  identity 
of  our  future  bodies  cannot  consist  in  the  presence  of  all  the 
numerical  particles  which  at  any  given  time  constituted  the 
body  ;  and  it  is  inferred  analogically,  that  the  changes  through 
which  our  bodies  are  continually  passing  may  be  assumed  as 


322 


LIFE  OF  SAMUEL  DREW. 


one  degree  of  proof  that  we  shall  rise  again.  Various  objec- 
tions are  anticipated  and  met ;  and,  in  a  final  summary  of  the 
arguments  used  througliout  the  volume,  the  reader  is  conducted 
from  the  bare  possibility  that  the  same  body  may  live  again, 
to  the  certainty  that  there  «AaH  6e  a  resurrection  both  of  the  just 
and  of  the  unjust. 

Upon  this  much  questioned  dogma  of  the  Christian  faith,  Mr. 
Drew  did  not  aim  at  demonstration.  In  his  view,  it  was  suf- 
ficient to  rebut  the  philosophical  objections  to  the  credibility 
of  the  doctrine — to  show  that  it  involved  no  contradiction  or 
absurdity — and  to  rest  its  assurance  upon  the  declarations  of 
Scripture. 

In  the  British  Critic,  vol.  35,  this  treatise  is  thus  character- 
ized. 

"  Of  the  elaborate  performance  which  now  solicits  our  atten- 
tion, we  know  not  how  to  convey  to  our  readers  any  adequate 
idea.  It  is  a  chain  of  argumentation  so  regular,  so  close,  and 
so  strong,  that  to  break  off  a  link  from  it,  and  exhibit  that  link, 
would  show,  indeed,  of  what  metal,  the  work  was  made,  but 
would  answer  no  other  purpose.  That  it  will  not  admit  of 
abridgment  or  analysis  is  the  highest  character  that  can  be 
given  to  any  literary  composition.  Such  is  the  case  with  Mr. 
Drew's." 

Of  the  Essay  on  the  Being  and  Attributes  of  God, — a  work 
respecting  which  Mr.  Drew  has  more  than  once  remarked, 
"  Though  it  seems  little  known,  yet  I  am  persuaded  it  is  by  far 
the  best  I  ever  wrote," — the  only  critique  of  which  we  are 
aware  is  that  already  noticed  as  having  appeared  in  the  Inves- 
tigator. The  work  is  there  spoken  of  in  terms  of  high  appro- 
bation, and  a  very  complete  analysis  given,  which  our  limits  will 
not  admit.    We  quote  only  a  few  paragraphs. 

"  The  work  to  which  we  would  now  direct  the  attention  of  our 
readers  is  divided  into  four  parts.  These  are,  1.  Arguments  a 
priori;  2.  Mixed  arguments  and  arguments  dpo*/erion ;  3.  Di- 
vine Providence  asserted  and  vindicated  ;  and,  4.  Proofs  from 
Revelation.  In  order  to  form  a  notion  of  the  vast  penetration 
and  profound  capacity  of  the  author,  we  need  only  read  the 
table  of  contents  ;  but  an  attentive  perusal  of  the  work  itself 
will  reward  the  intelligent  reader  with  an  expansion  of  his  ideas, 
to  an  extent  not  usually  derivable  from  books  on  similarly  ab- 
stract subjects.  A  new  direction  will  be  given  to  his  medita- 
tions ;  and,  pleased  with  a  strength  of  thought  and  variety  of 


CHARACTER  OF  HIS  WRITINGS. 


323 


topics  altogether  new,  it  cannot  fail,  we  should  think,  to  rouse 
his  energies,  stimulate  his  efforts,  and  awaken  his  ardour  in  the 
pursuit  of  knowledge. 

"  The  first  part  sets  out  with  the  argument  d  priori,  to  prove 
the  necessary  existence  of  one,  and  of  only  one,  uncreated,  un- 
derived,  and  self-existent  Being.  Philosophers  in  general  sup- 
pose its  demonstration  ii  posteriori  the  plainest,  and  therefore 
set  out  upon  that  plan ;  but  our  author's  mind,  original  and  in- 
tuitive, found  no  inconvenience  in  entering  upon  the  most  diffi- 
cult mode  of  arguing  first.  What  costs  other  men  many  ef- 
forts often  seems,  indeed,  scarcely  to  cost  him  a  single  thought. 

"  The  topics  of  his  argument  are  all  of  them  either  interest- 
ing, new,  or  handled  in  a  new  method.  Entity  and  non- 
entity,— motion,  space,  number,  and  duration, — body,  darkness, 
and  the  like, — are  the  materials  which  he  uses,  with  as  much 
facility  as  the  mechanic  does  his  tools,  to  adorn  and  to  em- 
bellish a  subject  in  itself  abstract,  subtle,  and  illusory.  But 
the  pen,  which  his  native  and  energetic  genius  guides  with  bold 
and  masterly  strokes,  make's  all  plain,  luminous,  and  perspicu- 
ous, even  to  ordinary  capacities. 

"Our  author  proceeds,  in  the  same  acute,  original,  and 
masterly  manner,  to  prove  that  '  the  material  world  cannot 
exist  in  an  absolute  nonentity.'  We  say,  this  section  is  origi- 
nal and  masterly,  because,  as  far  as  we  know,  the  argument  has 
never  before  been  stated  in  its  present  clear  and  convincing 
form.  It  is  then  proved,  that  motion  cannot  exist  in  an  absolute 
nonentity  ;  and  we  might  safely  appeal  to  the  readers  of  the 
work,  whether  any  of  the  philosophers  who  have  defined  the 
laws  of  motion  ever  discussed  those  laws,  in  their  bearing  on 
the  present  proposition,  in  the  manner  in  which  Mr.  Drew  has 
stated  them.    This  alone  would  prove  his  claim  to  originality. 

"The  subject  of  space  is  touched  with  singular  ability;  the 
thoughts  are  all  the  author's  own,  and  he  presents  this  propo- 
sition in  various  lights  to  the  reader ;  arguing  with  a  degree  of 
penetration  which  justly  claims  for  his  work  a  very  high  place 
among  the  treatises  on  abstract  science. 

"  Our  author's  views  of  number  are  acute,  and  yet  accurate, 
Uhough  original.  Every  view  he  takes  of  this  intricate  subject 
I  is  luminous  and  his  own  ;  nor  do  we  find  it  so  philosophically 
handled  in  any  of  the  treatises  published  by  arithmeticians. 
Stated  in  his  own  way,  his  definitions  and  deductions  carrj'  the 
reader  along  with  him,  both  convinced  and  pleased. 

"In  perusing  the  third  part  of  this  work,  we  find  the  subject 
becomes  more  subtle,  intricate,  and  abstruse  than  in  those 


324 


tlFE  OF  SAMDEL  DKEW. 


which  precede.  Here,  however,  we  pre-eminently  trace  the 
skilful  hand  of  the  auihor,  conducting  us  through  lal)yrinths  and 
windings,  both  devious  and  difficult.  The  author  sets  before 
us  the  immediate  superintendence  of  God,  sustaining  every 
thing  he  has  made ;  and  the  omniscience  of  God,  knowing 
every  volition  of  free  agents  with  perfect  certainty.  In  this 
view,  matter  and  mind  appear  to  be  alike  the  objects  of  that 
providence  which  presides  over  all.  Matter  and  mind,  in  their 
simple  existence,  and  in  their  laws  and  operations,  aie  alike 
subject  to  the  upholding  and  governing  providence  of  God. 

"  In  part  the  fourth,  we  are  presented  with  proofs  of  the 
being,  perfections,  and  providence  of  God,  from  revelation ; 
and  we  venture  to  add,  that  many  of  our  readers  will  find  their 
faith  in  God  much  comforted,  strengthened,  and  confirmed  by 
their  perusal. 

•  "  Upon  the  whole,  we  confidently  recommend  these  two 
volumes  to  the  notice  of  the  public,  and  congratulate  society 
upon  receiving  such  a  boon.  We  hope  the  work  will  be 
admitted  into  the  divinity  halls  of'the  United  Kingdom,  as  a 
class-book  for  young  divines ;  and  confidently  add,  that  the 
classes  of  moral  philosophy  will  find  it  to  their  advantage 
to  bestow  some  time  in  perusing  it." 

To  these  public  criticisms  on  Mr.  Drew's  metaphysical 
treatises,  it  may  not  be  improper  to  add  the  private  sentiments 
of  two  or  three  well-known  literary  characters. 

Dr.  Kidd,  in  a  letter  to  the  biographer,  remarks,  "I  never 
saw  any  work  so  profound,  yet  so  intelligible,  as  your  father's 
Prize  Essay.  His  work  on  the  Soul  is  truly  wonderful,  and 
nothing  like  it  was  ever  published.  His  work  on  the  Resurrec- 
tion of  the  Identical  Body  is  very  masterly ;  quite  original  and 
acute ;  though  more  laboured  than  any  other  of  his  pro- 
ductions." 

A  gentleman  of  Cambridge  says,  in  a  letter  to  Mr.  Drew, 
"I  saw  Mr.  Hall,  the  dissenting  mitiister,  at  Leicester,  and  I 
mentioned  your  name.  I  found  that  he  had  read  your  work  on 
the  Immortality,  «S^,c.  of  the  Soul  ;  and  he  spoke  of  it  in 
a  manner  that  was  very  pleasing  to  me  to  hear."^ 

Mr.  Morris,  in  his  "  Biographical  Recollections  of  Robe 
Hall,  A.M.,"  states,  that  wlien  the  late  Dr.  Mason,  of  New- 
York,  was  on  a  visit  to  Mr.  Hall,  "among  other  English 
authors  who  became  the  topic  of  conversation,  was  the  late 
excellent  Samuel  Drew,  whose  metaphysical  writings,  well 
known  in  America,  were  mentioned  with  high  commendation. 
Mr.  Hall,  however,  concurred  in  opinion  with  Dr.  Mason,  that 


CHARACTER  OF  HIS  WRITINGS. 


325 


hey  contain  some  positions  that  are  liable  to  strong  objections, 
particularly  tliat  wliich  affirms  tlie  utter  impossibility  ol'  the  an- 
nihilation of  matter.  Of  the  two  principal  performances  of  this 
able  and  original  writer,  that  on  the  Identity  of  the  Resurrection- 
body  was  considered  as  by  far  the  best,  and  which  had  been 
reprinted  at  New-York.  The  critics  both  agreed  that  Drew  was 
deficient  in  perspicuity,  though  one  of  the  first  writers  of  the 
age  ;  while  in  metaphysical  acumen  he  was  not  fully  equal  to 
President  Edwards."* 

Mr.  Drew's  minor  publications  it  will  not  be  necessary  to 
notice.  His  History  of  Cornwall  has  been  already  considered, 
in  Section  XX.  ;  and  to  the  opinions  there  expressed  we  have 
only  to  add  the  sentiments  of  one  who,  being  himself  an  his- 
torian and  an  antiquarian,  is  quulified  to  decide, — "that  Mr. 
Drew's  County  History,  though  not  exempt  from  error,  is  the 
best  that  has  yet  been  written." 

Whether  any  formal  opinion  was  passed  apon  his  Biography 
of  Dr.  Coke  we  are  ignorant.  In  the  absence  of  minute  criticism, 
we  may  state  briefly,  that  the  volume  is  characterized  by  much 
original  thought,  a  spirit  of  rational  piety,  great  keenness  of 
discrimination,  and  numerous  philosophical  reflections,  evi- 
dently proceeding  from  a  mind  that  fully  grasps  its  subject. 
The  writer  has  executed,  with  fidelity,  sound  judgment,  and 
good  taste,  a  delicate  and  difficult  task. 

The  Imperial  Magazine,  which  Mr.  Drew  edited  from  its 
commencement  in  1819  to  the  last  month  of  his  life,  was 
intended  to  embrace  a  greater  variety  of  subjects  than  a  merely 
religious  periodical ;  and  yet  to  be  more  decidedly  religious, 
in  the  best  sense  of  the  expression,  than  most  of  the  monthly 
publications  which  minister  to  the  public  curiosity.  To  the 
fulfilment  of  this  design  its  numerous  readers  can  bear  witness. 
In  a  letter  to  the  editor,  dated  1820,  Dr.  Olinthus  Gregory  says, 
"I  congratulate  you  very  cordially  upon  the  reputation  and 
success  of  the  Imperial  Magazine,  and  upon  that  real  value,  as 
a  periodical  work,  which  has  obtained  for  it  that  reputation  and 
that  success.    For  my  own  part,  I  prefer  it  to  any  other  of  our 

I  *  To  give  Mr.  Drew,  a  known  Arminian,  the  next  place  to  President 
Edwards,  is  no  small  praise,  from  one  who,  like  Ur.  Mason,  held  the  ten- 
ets of  Calvin.  In  the  opinion  of  most  other  critics,  ^  jierspicmly'  is  an  es- 
pecial characteristic  of  Mr.  Drew's  metaphysical  writings.  It  may  be  also 
right  to  state,  that  the  impossibility  of  the  annihilation  of  matter  Mr.  D. 
nowhere  asserts.  He  only  contends  that  the  essence  of  matter  is  naturally 
imperishable. 


326 


LIFE  OF  SAMUEL  DREW. 


miscellaneous  publications  issuing  monthly,  and  I  have  therefore 
given  it  my  humble  recommendation." 

Notwithstanding  this  testimonial,  we  do  not  recur  with  un- 
raingled  salisfaciion  to  the  period  of  Mr.  Drew's  connection 
with  this  miscellany.  However  well  qualified  for  the  editorial 
office,  it  was  not  adapted  to  bring  his  peculiar  talents  into  vigo- 
rous exercise.  It  cannot  be  truly  said,  that,  in  this  occupation, 
the  intellectual  flower  was  "born  to  blush  unseen;"  but  there 
was  an  apparent  misapplication  of  mental  power.  Knowing  the 
previous  achievements  of  his  rare  faculty  for  abstract  investiga- 
tion, and  the  lofiy  subjects  which  he  contemplated,  one  cannot 
but  deplore  it  as  a  public  loss,  that  his  energies  should  have 
been  wasted  on  inferior  objects.  Still,  the  step  which  thus  as- 
signed him  an  occupation  for  the  residue  of  his  life  was  taken 
deliberately  and  advisedly.  We  know  little  of  the  contingencies 
dependent  on  his  decision ;  and  the  presumption  is,  that  the 
course  pursued  was,  on  the  whole,  the  wisest  and  the  best. 

Those  publications  in  which  Mr.  Drew's  name  did  not  ap- 
pear, though  chiefly  the  fruit  of  his  labours,  it  does  not  fall 
within  our  jirovince  to  describe^  yet  their  enumeration  may  be 
thought  an  act  of  justice  to  him  and  to  the  public.  In  this  enu- 
meration we  do  not  include  the  works  on  which  his  pen  was 
employed  during  his  connection  with  the  Caxton  Press. — 
Thouoh  there  were  few  publications  issued  by  that  establish- 
ment, from  1819  to  1883,  upon  which  his  talents  were  not 
engaged  ;  yet,  as  his  name  seldom  appeared  on  their  title- 
pages,  and  he  never  informed  his  family  how  far  his  personal 
labour  extended,  they  cannot,  except  the  Imperial  Magazine, 
be  with  certainty  particularized.  His  acknowledged  publica- 
tions, and  the  date  of  their  appearance,  are  as  follow: — 

Remarks  on  the  First  Part  of  Paine's  Age  of  Reason.  1799. 
Elegy  on  the  death  of  Mr.  John  Patterson,  who  was  drowned 

at  Wadebridge,  in  Cornwall.  1800. 
Observations  on  a  Pamphlet  lately  published  by  the  Rev.  R. 

Polwhele,  entitled  Anecdotes  of  Methodism.  1800. 
A  Letter  to  the  Friend  of  the  Church.  1801. 
An  Original  Essay  on  the  Immalcrialily  and  Immortality  of  the  , 

Human  Soul,  founded  solely  on  Physical  and  Rational 

Principles.  1802. 
A  Conversation  between  a  Deist  and  a  Christian.  1807. 
An  Essay  on  the  Identity  and  General  Resurrection  of  the 

Human  Body.  1809. 


CHARACTER  OF  HIS  WRITINGS. 


327 


Scriptural  and  Philosophical  Arguments  to  prove  the  Divinity 
of  Christ,  and  the  Necessity  of  his  Atonement.  1813. 

The  Divinity  of  Christ,  and  the  Necessity  of  his  Atonement, 
vindicated  from  tiie  Cavils  of  Mr.  Thomas  Prout  and  his 
Associates.  1814. 

The  Life  of  the  liev.  Thomas  Coke,  LL.D.    18 17. 

The  History  of  Cornwall,  from  the  earliest  Records  and  Tra- 
ditions to  the  Present  Time.    2  vols.  4to.     1815  to  1824. 

An  Attempt  to  demonstrate,  from  Reason  and  Revelation,  the 
Necessary  Existence,  Essential  Perfections,  and  Super- 
intending Providence  of  an  Eternal  Being,  who  is  the 
Creator,  the  Supporter,  and  the  Governor  of  all  things. 
2  vols.  1820. 

Of  the  following  works,  bearing  the  name  of  Thomas 
Coke,  LL.D.,  Mr.  Drew  was  virtually  or  principally  the 
author  : — 

A  Commentary  on  the  New  Testament.    2  vols.  4to.  1807. 

The  Recent  Occurrences  of  Europe,  considered  in  relation  to 
T'ropiiecy  fulfilled  and  unfulfilled.  1808. 

A  History  of  the  West  Indies,  Natural,  Civil,  and  Ecclesias- 
tical ;  with  an  account  of  the  Missions  instituted  in  those 
Islands.    3  vols,    1808  to  1811. 

A  History  of  the  Old  and  New  Testaments  (a  part  only  pub- 
lished). 1809. 

Si.\  Letters,  in  Reply  to  the  Rev.  Melville  Home,  in  Defence 
of  the  Doctrines  of  Justification  by  Faith  and  the  Witness  of 
the  Spirit.  1810. 

The  Cottager's  Bible,  containing  a  short  Exposition  and  Prac- 
tical Reflections  on  each  chapter.    4to.  1810. 

Prepared  in  MS.  but  not  published  : — 

A  Series  of  Letters  to  the  Rev.  G.  F.  Nott,  B.D.,  vindicating 
Mr.  Wesley  and  his  Colleagues  from  the  misrepresentations 
contained  in  his  Sermons  at  the  Bampion  Lecture,  entitled 
"Religious  Enthusiasm  Considered."  1806. 

A  System  of  Natural  Philosophy,  deduced  from  the  Newtonian 
theory  and  the  most  recent  discoveries.  1807. 

Amid  these  numerous  works,  it  is  upon  his  original  treatises 
on  the  Soul,  on  the  Body,  and  on  the  Being  and  Attributes  of 
God,  that  Mr.  Drew's  literary  reputation  chiefly  rests.    In  these 


328 


LIFE  OF  SAMUEL  DREW. 


the  powers  of  his  mind  are  fully  exhibited.  Here  he  stands 
forth  singly  and  conspicuously  from  the  republic  of  letters,  in 
all  his  originality  and  depth  of  thought,  establishing  for  himself, 
as  a  metaphysician,  a  philosopher,  and  a  divine,  a  distinct  and 
an  enduring  character. 

In  the  subjoined  letter,  received  after  the  MS.  of  this  volume 
was  complete,  the  sentiments  of  the  preceding  paragraphs  are 
confirmed  and  amplified. 

"Aberdeen,  30th  Sept.,  1833. 

"  My  dear  Sir, 

"  By  this  time  I  presume  you  have  finished  the  biography  of 
your  worthy  father.  I  doubt  much  whether  you  ever  knew  the 
extent  of  your  father's  capacity  as  a  metaphysician  : — few  men, 
in  the  present  day,  were  able  fully  to  appreciate  the  genius  of 
Samuel  Drew.  His  want  of  conspicuous  standing  in  society, 
and,  most,  his  want  of  a  proper  academical  education,  prevented 
the  native  vigour  of  his  soaring  mind  from  appearing  in  hs 
full  splendour,  and  his  works  from  being  read  by  the  learned 
in  colleges  and  universities. — Yet  1  think,  in  time,  they  will 
find  their  way  into  the  schools  of  learning,  not  only  in  JBriiain, 
but  throughout  the  whole  republic  of  letters. 

"  In  his  Essay  upon  the  Immateriality  and  Immortality  of 
the  Human  Soul,  he  had  Locke  as  a  guide;  and  yet,  in  many 
things,  lie  has  exceeded  his  master.  In  his  Essay  on  the  Be- 
ing and  Attributes  of  the  Deity,  he  had  Clarke  before  him ; 
and  he  is  far  more  profound  than  Clarke  on  that  sublime 
subject.  But  in  his  Essay  upon  the  Identity  and  Resurrection 
of  the  Human  Body  he  had  no  guide.  Here  his  whole  capacity 
is  shown,  in  its  native  energy  and  power  of  thought ;  here 
his  vigorous  mind  displays  its  great  natural  resources,  in  un- 
folding a  subject  so  deep  and  so  interesting.  In  this  he  appears 
Samuel  Drew  indeed :  yet  this  is  the  least  known  of  all  his 
works. 

"  His  becoming  editor  of  the  Imperial  Magazine  added  no 
lustre  cither  to  his  genius  or  reputation  as  a  writer: — the  sub- 
jects which  he  handled  in  this  undertaking  were  too  trivial  and 
multifarious  for  his  towering  mind.  From  the  time  he  came 
to  London,  he  was  too  much  taken  up  in  the  bustle,  and  busi- 
ness, and  splendour  of  the  capital — the  Welsh  eagle  lost  his 
wings,  and  no  more  soared  aloft  from  his  wild  mountains. 
The  day  will  come,  when  your  father's  native  and  self-taught 
genius  will  appear  to  the  learned ;  and  Justice  will  be  done  to 
his  writings  after  he  is  long  in  the  grave. 


CHARACTER  OF  HIS  WKITINGS. 


329 


"While  I  live,  I  shall  always  retain  a  grateful  remembrance 
of  your  father,  whom  I  never  saw.  I  can  yet  look  back  to  St. 
Austell,  the  place  where  my  first  letter  found  him,  with  a  feel- 
ing oi'  regard ;  and  with  that  tie  of  sympathy  which  cannot  be 
broken,,  continue  my  affection  for  the  memory  of  Samuel  Drew. 

"Ever  yours, 

"James  Kidd. 

''Mr.  J.  IL  Drew,  St.  Austell" 

Upon  Mr.  Drew's  style  of  writing,  few  remarks  are  neces- 
sary. Tliougl)  exhibiting  beauties  that  often  excited  admiration, 
it  was  not  faultless.  An  over-scrupulousness  in  the  choice  of 
expression  sometimes  invested  it  wiih  an  air  of  siili'ness  and 
formality.  It  was,  perhaps,  too  iDl'iy  for  coniinon  tojiics,  and 
too  figurative  for  ahsiiact  discussion.  From  an  evident  par- 
tiality to  poetical  ami  pciipluaslic  modes  of  speech,  there  was 
sometimes,  notwithstanding  the  general  perspicuity  of  his  writ- 
ings, a  difTusencss  and  eiicumlofution  in  his  expressi(  iis  not 
consistent  wiih  good  taste.  Yet  frequently  his  words  vvere 
terse  and  pointed,  and  rarely  could  iluy  be  misunderstood. 
Probably  it  would  be  haznnlous  to  assert  that  this  style  was 
natural,  hike  another  individual  of  high  intellectual  powers, 
whose  death  has  left  a  blank,*  Mr.  Drew,  in  the  early  period 
of  his  literary  pursuits,  was  an  admirer  and  imitator  of  Dr. 
Johnson.  Uneducated  and  unassisted,  yet  resolved  to  abandon 
liis  former  grovelling  views  and  language,  he  chose  the  author 
of  Rasselas  as  a  model,  and,  without  a  consciousness  of  im- 
propriety, followed  him  until  his  style  was  confirmed. 

To  his  language  in  the  pulpit  little  cxfcijiion  can  be  taken. 
There  the  rigid  rules  of  argumentation  aie  so  far  relaxed  as  to 
give  scope  to  the  imaginative  powers— there  the  embellish- 
ments of  poetic  diction  are  not  only  allowable,  but  in  perfect 
harmony  with  impassioned  appeals  to  the  hearers — and  there 
the  loftiest  style  is  fully  sustained  by  the  dignity  of  the  subject. 
Many  who  read  these  lines  will  remember,  that  often,  when, 
as  a  preacher,  Mr.  D.  has  felt  the  engrossing  interest  which 
such  an  olDce  communicates,  and,  leaving  beneath  him  sublu- 
nary concerns,  has  soared  into  intellectual  and  spiritual  regions, 
his  expressions  have  risen  in  sublimity  and  grandeur,  until 
they  appeared  almost  to  vie  with  the  words  of  inspiration. 

Although  figurative  language  is  less  adapted  for  a  metaphy- 
sical treatise  than  for  a  pulpit  address,  it  must  not  be  inferred 


*  Rev.  Robert  Hall,  A.M. 
Ee2 


330 


LIFE  OF  SAMUEL  DREW. 


that  ill  Mr.  Drew's  writings  it  is  always  a  defect.  However 
unsuited  to  mere  abstract  discussion,  there  are  occasions,  even 
in  such  works,  where  this  embellishnnent  may  be  used  with  the 
happiest  effect ;  and  few  writers  have  been  more  successful  in 
exhibiting  the  needful  precision  of  thought,  while  clodiing  an  un- 
imaginative subject  with  the  attractions  of  language.  Through- 
out his  works  there  are  numerous  passages,  the  words  of  which 
have  been  felt  by  every  reader  to  be  exquisitely  appropriate.  The 
concluding  paragraph  of  the  preface  to  the  fifth  edition  of  his 
Essay  on  the  Soul  may  suffice  as  an  example.  We  select  it, 
not  merely  as  a  specimen  of  Mr.  Drew's  style — of  pathos  and 
beauty  not  generally  surpassed, — but,  from  the  prophetic  spirit 
whicli  seems  to  have  guided  his  pen,  and  led  him  to  anticipate 
an  e?rly  liberation  from  the  shackles  and  infirmities  of  this  mor- 
tal state,  we  adopt  it  as  a  fitting  conclusion  for  these  imperfect 
remarks. 

"Advancing  in  years,  the  author's  probationary  period  is 
drawing  to  a  close  ;  and  the  crisis  cannot  be  reinote  that  will 
dismiss  his  spirit  from  its  earthly  abct'e  to  ilie  regions  of  im- 
mortality. Associating  then  with  the  disembodied,  detached 
from  all  material  organization,  there  can  be  no  doubt  that  he 
will  see  much  reason  to  alter  many  of  his  views  respecting  the 
momentous  subject  on  which  he  has  written.  He,  however, 
concludes  this  preface  under  a  full  conviction,  that,  although 
unable  to  communicate  any  corrections  of  what  he  may  then 
discover  to  be  erroneous  in  his  Essay,  he  shall  have  new  evi- 
dence, bursting  upon  him  like  a  tide  of  glory,  to  establish  be- 
yond the  possibility  of  a  doubt,  THE  IMMATERIALITY 
AND  IMMORTALITY  OF  THE  HUMAN  SOUL." 

To  this  quotation,  and  to  our  attempted  though  defective 
sketch,  we  add,  with  full  conviction  of  its  truth,  the  observation 
of  a  literary  friend,  "  It  will  ever  be  the  works,  and  not  the 
BiOGRAPHKR,  that  Will  thow  the  gemus  and  capacity  of  Samuel 
Drew." 


APPENDIX. 


MISCELLANEOUS   SAVINGS,  OPINIONS,   AND   CONVERSATIONAL  RE- 
MARKS OF  MR.  DREW. 

L\  presenting  the  reader  with  the  following  gleaninsrs,  it  may 
be  necessary  to  premise,  that  the  Conversational  Remarks  be- 
ing chiefly  related  from  memory,  the  biographer  ci-uno;  vouch, 
in  every  instance,  for  the  exact  form  of  expression.  The  ob- 
servations are,  notwithstanding,  substantially  correct ;  and,  in 
general,  they  are  given  in  Mr.  Drew's  own  words. 


On  the  modes  of  argumentation  wliich  demonstrate  the  exist- 
ence of  a  great  First  Cause,  Mr.  D.  remarked  to  a  metaphysical 
correspondent,  "The  various  arguments  which  the  visible  crea- 
tion affords  are,  without  doubt,  the  most  popular,  and  are  better 
adapted  to  the  comprehension  of  the  general  mass  of  readers. 
But  such  as  are  drawn  from  existence  itself,  independently  of  all 
effects,  and  works,  and  designs,  must  be  more  convincing  to  such 
as  can  comprehend  them  ;  because,  being  confined  within  a  short 
compass,  the  demonstration  will  have  fewer  steps,  and  con- 
sequently be  less  liable  to  cavils." 

In  reference  to  the  theological  tenets  of  Dr.  Samuel  Clarke, 
Mr.  Drew  writes,  "  This  is  one  of  the  dangerous  rocks  to  which 
we  are  exposed,  in  the  distant  ex'  ursions  we  are  tempted  to 
make  in  pursuit  of  knowledge  ;  and  we  rarely  fail  to  split  upon 
it,  whenever  we  suffer  the  light  of  philosophy  to  allure  us  into 
regions  which  lie  beyond  her  province.  True  philosophy  will 
tell  us  where  true  philosophy  ends ;  and  the  instant  we  obey  her 
dictates,  we  admit  on  the  ground  of  revelation  those  truths 
which  Dr.  C,  by  following  the  directions  of  a  coasting  pilot, 
was  templed  to  deny." 


332 


APPENDIX. 


Talking  of  the  various  gradations  of  infidelity,  Mr.  Drew  re- 
marked, "  It  is  the  grand  error  of  Deism  to  make  reason  the 
ultimate  judge,  not  only  of  the  fads  contained  in  revelation,  but 
of  the  nature  of  those  facts,  and  the  vianner  in  which  they  exist. 
Socinianism  is  nolbhig  more  than  Deism  refined.  It  takes 
shelter  under  the  letter  of  revelation,  and  is  the  more  dangerous 
because  it  is  the  more  specious." 

On  the  doctrine  of  the  Atonement,  he  observed,  in  corre- 
sponding with  a  friend,  "  It  .strikes  me,  that  we  sustain  towards 
God  the  joint  character  of  crinmials  and  debtors.  Our  criminality 
requires  an  expiation  to  be  made  ;  but,  if  we  be  not  considered 
in  the  light  of  debtors  also,  I  caiiuol  caiicei\e  how  it  can  be 
reconciled  with  mo'c-A  justice  that  God  should  accept  the  innocent 
for  the  guilty." 

Writing  to  a  relative  on  the  subject  of  faith,  he  remarked, 
"Between  our  safely  and  our  enjni.mcnt  there  is  an  essential 
difference.  Our  safety  depends  upon  ihe  r^auineness  or  qualily 
of  our  faith;  our  enjoyment,  upon  iis  strongth  or  <p(antity. 
Forgetting  this  distinction,  many  mourn  when  they  have  more 
reason  to  rejoice.  Our  safety  is  coiuiectod  by  faith  with  the 
efhcacy  of  the  alont'ment ;  and  if  faith  be  genuine,  though, 
througli  its  weakness,  our  enjoyment  may  be  little,  yet,  as  it 
unites  us  to  t!ie  Saviour,  our  felicity  in  an  eternal  woild  v.'ill  be 
secure,  even  while  we  pass  the  time  of  our  sojourning  here  in 
fear." 

A  young  lady  lamenting  to  him  the  weakness  of  her  faith, 
"Recollect,"  said  Mr.  D.,  "that  among  all  Bunyan's  pilgiims 
there  was  but  one  Great-heart." 

"I  am  so  tried  and  tempted,"  said  a  very  sincere  person,  in 
his  hearing,  "  th;tt  ]  fe;;r  1  shall  never  hold  f.ist  my  profession."— 
"  Let  this  thought  (  nemn  agc  you,'  lie.  obse  rved,—'-  The  tempta- 
tions of  to-day,  if  re.-  if  ted,  \viU  l»:;u  much  of  their  force  to- 
morrow. Neitlier  let  this  roii-oilcn,  as  a  v  arning, — Once 
yield  to  a  temptation,  and  il  -.i  !1  aiquire  double  strength." 

Some  one  observing  to  hhii,  that  many  religious  teachers  are 
accustomed  t(j  tell  the  ]ieople  that,  when  tempted,  they  should 
never  reason, — "It  is  absurd,"  he  replied,  "  the  very  climax  of 
absurdity.  Yov  what  was  reason  given  us.  if  \\c  are  not  to  use 
it  when  we  most  need  direction  ^  Did  not  Christ  reason  with  the 
devil,  and  foil  him  with  his  own  weapons'!  Iteason  would  say, 
'  How  can  I  do  this  great  wickedness,  and  sin  against  God  V  It 
■would  suggest  to  us  our  own  weakness,  and  direct  us  to  seek  help 
from  above.  No,  sir,  it  is  not  reason  we  have  to  fear,  but  appe- 
tite, which  reason  should  control.  It  is  because  men  do  not 
reason  that  they  so  often  act  unreasonably  and  unscripturally." 


SAYINGS  AND  OPINIONS. 


333 


A  gentleman  one  day  remarking  to  Mr.  D.  that  very  repre- 
hensible expressions  were  often  used  in  the  pulpit, — "Ay,  sir," 
said  he,  "  the  pulpit  is  the  strong-hold  of  the  ignorant  dogmatist. 
A  man  '  wiser  in  his  own  conceit  than  seven  men  who  can  ren- 
der a  reason,'  gets  up  where  he  knows  no  one  may  contradict 
him,  and  utters  nonsense  and  invective  by  wholesale." 

In  the  course  of  conversation,  a  question  was  mooted  rela- 
tive to  extravagant  gesture  and  expression  in  the  pulpit,  and  the 
propriety  of  attempting  to  move  the  passions  of  an  audience,  as 
a  means  of^fTecting  their  consciences. 

"  I  see  no  impropriety,"  said  a  gentleman,  "  in  the  use  of 
such  means.  Have  they  not  been  followed  by  the  conversion 
of  thousands  of  sinners  T' 

"  'J'iiis,  sir,"  replied  Mr.  D.,  "does  not  prove  them  to  be  good, 
though  they  may  have  been  overruled  for  good.  I  have  known 
an  individual  apparently  owe  his  subsequent  religious  conduct 
to  an  escape  from  the' flames.  Would  you  think  it  expedient 
to  set  your  neighbour's  liouse  on  fire,  in  order  to  alarm  him,  and 
save  his  soull  or  would  you  introduce  a  pestilential  disease 
into  a  neighbourhood,  because  the  fear  of  being  the  victims  of 
such  a  visitation  has  led  to  the  reformation  of  many  sinners? 
I  grant,  sir,  that  there  maybe  exempt  cases;  but  I  fear  that,  in 
general,  such  methods  of  saving  souls  are  included  in  the  defini- 
tion of  fanaticism — of  maintaining  that  the  end  sanctifies  the 
means^  and  of  doing  evil  that  good  may  come.  It  may  be  diffi- 
cult to  trace  the  exact  boundary  of  right  and  wrong  in  these 
matters;  but  it  must  lie  between  man's  animal  and  rational 
nature." 

To  a  correspondent,  who  inquired  his  opinion  of  religious  re- 
vivals, Mr.  Drew  replied  thus: — "  If  the  phrase,  revival  of  re- 
ligion, be  taken  in  its  proper  sense,  as  denoting  the  extension 
and  increase  of  vital  godliness,  I  should  be  no  Christian  were  I 
to  view  it  with  indifference  or  aversion.  If  you  couple  it  with 
noise  and  excited  feeling  (and  without  these  many  people 
would  think  the  term  inapplicable),  I  pause  before  I  either  ap- 
prove or  condemn.  In  point  of  reason,  speculation,  propriety, 
and  decorum,  my  voice  is  decidedly  against  the  manner;  and  if 
I  thought  that  it  was  the  effect  of  human  artifice  operating  upon 
vi^eak  intellects  and  strong  passions,  I  would  condenni  it  alto- 
gether. 13ut  when,  without  any  ground  for  this  suspicion,  I  see 
the  profligate  reclaimed,  the  abandoned  reformed,  and  the  vicious 
undergoing  a  moral  ronovation,  I  abandon  all  my  fine-spun 
objections,  and  remain  silent  at  a  spectacle  sp  salutary  in  its 
effects,  and  so  mysterious  in  its  process. 

"  I  fear,  however,  there  is  an  artifice  with  some  preachers  and 
people  to  light  up  this  contagious  fire.  1  have  been  behind  the 
curtain,  and  have  seen  a  little  of  it ;  and  am  filled  with  disgust  in 
proportion  to  the  discovery.    If  the  work  be  of  God,  he  does  not 


334 


APPENDIX. 


want  the  tricks  I  have  witnessed.  The  question  of  permanency, 
too,  presents  itself.  Are  the  present  effects  ultimately  bene- 
ficiaH  Do  these  new  converts  standi*  The  history  of  past 
years  teaches  us  that  their  apostacy  has  been  nearly  as  exten- 
sive and  sudden  as  their  reformation  The  benefit  in  such  cases 
is  lost,  while  the  disgust  excited  in  the  minds  of  sober  persons 
still  remains.  In  many  instances,  1  conceive,  tliese  things  have 
created  and  confirmed  prejudices  which  an  age  will  hwrdly  wipe 
away.  With  my  present  views,  and  with  all  I  evfr  had,  1  can- 
not join  in  these  reveries  without  being  an  arrant  hypocrite." 


In  indiscriminate  censure  Mr.  Drew  never  indulged  ;  and,  ex- 
cept among  confidential  friends,  he  rarely  oflVred  or  seconded 
any  remark  on  the  government  of  the  Methodislic  body.  To 
questioners  and  partisans,  the  conmion  reply,  in  his  letter  years, 
was,  "I  have  done  with  th,e  politics  of  Methodism."  Still  he 
was  not  without  his  opinions— the  opinions  of  an  impartial  and 
accurate  observer.  Some  of  these  may  be  gathered  from  oc- 
casional conversations. 

"  On  what  ground,"  said  a  friend  to  Mr.  Drew,  "does your  at- 
tachment to  Methodism  chiefly  rest?  Do  you  think  it  free 
from  imperfection  V 

"  By  no  means,  sir, — 

'  Whoever  thinks  a  faultless  piece  to  see, 
Thinks  what  ne'er  was,  nor  is,  nor  e'er  shall  be  :' 

ijut  I  think  there  are  fewer  defects  in  the  doctrines  and  dis- 
cipline of  VVesleyan  Methodism  than  of  any  other  body  of 
modern  Christians  that  1  have  read  of  or  known.  The  distin- 
guishing excellence  of  Methodism,  in  my  estimation,  is,  that  it 
requires  no  confession  of  faith  from  its  members — no  other  condi- 
tion than  a  desire  'to  flee  from  the  wrath  to  come,'  evidenced 
by  'fn:its  meet  for  repentance.'  The  'unity  of  the  spirit'  is 
thus  'kejjt  in  the  bond  of  peace.'  Let  the  Conference  make 
uniformity  in  opinion  the  condition  of  membership,  and  Metho- 
dism will  fall  to  piece.i  like  a  rope  of  sand." 

"What  do  you  think,  Mr.  Drew,"  said  the  questioner,  "of the 
remark  I  once  heard  made  by  a  preacher  to  an  individual  who  sug- 
gested sor  ie  improventent  in  the  financial  concerns  of  a  circuit, 

♦  There  is  much  'truth  and  shrewd  sense  in  the  observation  of  S. 
Hick,  the  Village  blacksmith  :  "  In  most  revivals  of  religion  there  are 
three  sorts  of  work — the  work  of  God,  the  work  of  man,  and  the  work  of 
the  devil.  When  the  two  latter  are  destroyed,  the  first  will  stand; 
and  we  must  be  careful  not  to  injure  the  one  in  suppressing  the  other." 


SAYINGS  AND  OPINIONS. 


339 


—'The  laws  of  jMethodism  were  in  existence  before  we  were 
born,  and  we  cannot  mend  them  V  " 

"  1  think,  sir,  that  preacher  was  born  out  of  due  time.  He 
ou^ht  to  have  been  a  Roman  Catholic,  and  to  have  lived  at  the 
epoch  of  the  Reformation.  Possibly  he  might  have  distinguished 
himself  as  a  zealous  opponent  of  Luther.  Mr.  Wesley  was  an 
excellent  legislator,  and  few  systems  of  church  government 
were  so  well  ors; mized  at  the  outset  as  his.  Legislative  perfec- 
tion is  not  instantaneous,  but  gradur.l ;  and  laws  will  need  alter- 
ation as  circumstances  and  relationships  arise  which  their  fra- 
mers  never  anticipated.  It  is  ridiculous  to  suppose  that  Metho- 
dism came  from  its  founder,  like  Minerva  from  the  head  of  Jupi- 
ter, fully  armed." 

•'  Perhaps,  then,  you  do  not  consider  Mr.  Wesley's  answer  to 
the  fault- finders  of  his  day,—'  You  sought  us,  and  not  we  you,' 
— precisely  i-.pplicable  now  V 

'•Certainly  not.  The  people  stand  in  another  relation  to  his 
successors  in  the  ministry  than  they  did  to  him.  The  original 
Methodist  societies  sprang  from  John  and  Charles  Wesley, 
who  were  independent  of  the  people  ;  the  present  preachers 
spring  from  tlie  societies,  and  are  dependent  upon  them  fur  their 
maintenance.  Arbitrary  power,  too.  can  never  be  delegated. 
There  may  be  circumstances  under  \\  liich  such  power  is  prop- 
erly assumed  and  conceded,  but  it  reaches  only  to  the  original 
parties  and  those  who  place  themselves  in  a  like  situation. 
Such  persons  as  crasp  at  sovereign  sway  ought  not  to  forget  the 
remurk  of  Juiiiiis,  that  '  the  fee-simple  is  still  in  the  people.'" 

"  Do  you  not  think.  Mr.  Drew,  that  the  preachers,  as  a  body, 
look  upctn  tiieir  interests  as  distinct  from  those  of  the  people  V 

'•It  is  an  error  into  which  I  fear  they  sometimes  fall;  but 
may  they  not  retort  on  us,  that  we  speak  and  act  as  though  our 
interests  were  opposed  to  theirs  1  We  too  often  form  our 
opinions  without  evidence,  and  judge  of  measures  as  they  affect 
us  individually,  not  as  tliey  bear  upon  the  whole  community. 
This,  nevertheless,  I  admit,  that  though  almost  all  the  preach- 
ers with  whom  I  have  been  personally  acquainted  are  upright, 
amiable,  disinterested  men;  yet  I  should  find  it  difficult  to 
reconcile  every  measure  of  Conference  with  the  private  virtues 
of  its  members.  When  a  pre-acher  is  admitted  into  '  full  connec- 
tion,' he  .ippears,  like  a  Kniirlit  of  the  Temple,  to  merge  his  in- 
dividuality in  tlie  aggrandizement  of  his  order." 

"And  what  is  your  opinion,  sir,  of  the  stability  of  Me- 
thodism V 

"  About  thirty  years  ago,"  replied  Mr.  D.,  "a  preacher,  whom 
I  knew,  left  the  iiinerancy,  under  an  apprehension  that  the  sys- 
tem would  soon  be  dissolved;  alleging  to  me,  when  I  inquired 
his  reason,  that  '  a  prudent  mail  foreseeth  the  evil,  and  hideth 
himself  Many  such  auguries  I  have  heard ;  but  their  fulfil- 
ment seems  as'dist  int  as  ever.  Do  not,  however,  suppose  that 
I  consider  the  Methodist  constitution  indissoluble.    There  are 


336 


APPENDIX, 


many  things  tending  to  its  disorganization,  against  which  there 
must  be  a  careful  watch.  Our  chapel  debts  are  a  millstone 
about  the  neck  of  the  connection,  which,  without  some  change 
of  measures,  may  sink  it  to  destruction.  But  nothing  will 
prove  so  prejudicial  as  a  gratuitous  display  of  power  on  the  part 
of  the  preachers.  Against  this  the  minds  of  the  people  will  al- 
ways revolt.  Let  them  beware,  too,  of  seeking  the  honour  that 
conieth  from  men.  In  my  estimation,  and  that  of  many  others, 
the  preachers  went  down  several  degrees  when,  by  a  vote  of 
Conference,  they  assumed  to  themselves  the  title  of  Reverend. 
The  permanency  and  strength  of  Methodism  lie  in  the  union  of 
preachers  and  people.  While  their  purposes  and  interests  are 
identified,  and  God's  glory  their  only  aim,  Methodism  will- 
prosper.  If  these  be  sundered,  discord  will  succeed  to  harmony. 
Like  other  Christian  communities,  om-s  will,  no  doubt,  in  pro- 
cess of  time  degenerate.  Then  probably  some  branch  or  offset 
will  spring  forth  for  its  renovation,  just  as  Methodism  has  been 
the  means  of  renovating  the  Estabhshed  Church.'' 

Mr.  Drew  not  only  disliked  to  be  styled  Reverend,  but  he  was 
never  partial  to  the  assumption  of  the  epithet  by  those  to  whom 
it  was  not  conceded  by  law  and  established  usage.  Before  the 
appearance  of  his  book  on  the  Resurrection,  a  friend,  to  whose 
kindness  he  was  indebted  for  many  subscribers,  wrote  him  thus : 
"  A  certain  bishop  lately  observed  to  me,  '  I  wonder  Mr.  Drew 
did  not  honour  the  Methodist  preachers  with  the  title  of  Reve- 
rend, in  liis  work  on  the  Soul.'  1  replied,  that  perhaps  you 
would  111  this.  It  certainly  could  be  of  no  advantage'to  the  indi- 
viduals themselves — more  likely  the  contrary.  But  it  might  be 
an  advantage  to  the  work,  to  see  such  a  number  of  reverend  sin- 
ners in  the  subscription  list:  for  the  major  part  of  your  subscri- 
bers would  wonder  where  you  got  such  a  group  of  clergymen." 
To  this  suggestion  Mr.  Drew  replied,  "  It  was  my  design  nut  to 
give  the  title  of  Reverend  to  any  of  the  preachers,  except  Drs. 
Coke  and  Clarke ; 

'  For  loveliness  needs  not  the  common  aid 
Of  ornainent,  but  is  when  unadorned 
Adorned  the  most.' 

I  would  rather  see  them  dignified  than  tinselled,  and  shine  in 
sterling  worth  than  in  artificial  trappings." 

Alluding,  on  one  occasion,  to  an  ill-timed  display  of  authority, 
and  the  apparent  inability  of  some  preachers  to  discriminate  be- 
tween the  possession  and  the  exhibition  of  power,  he  remarked, 
"  When  a  boy  smacks  his  whip,  men  must  beware  that  their  eyes 
do  not  receive  the  lash." 


To  a  Wesleyan  preacher  who  thought  himself  harshly  treated 


SAYINGS  AND  OPINIONS. 


337 


by  some  of  his  official  brethren,  on  a  particular  occasion,  Mr.  D. 
observed,  "  It  is  to  me  astonishing,  that  when  persons  get  into 
office,  they  should  forget  that  those  whom  they  direct  have  the 
common  feelings  of  human  nature,  and  that  elevation  is  only  an 
accidental  circumstance.  This  is  one  branch  of  that  range  of 
rocks  on  which  I  fear  Methodism  will  one  day  be  wrecked." 

Dining  once  in  company  with  a  Wesleyan  minister  who  was 
a  strenuous  defender  of  ecclesiastical  domination,  the  conversa- 
tion turned  on  the  general  introduction  of  the  Liturgy  into  the 
Methodist  chapels — a  measure  which  the  gentleman  advocated, 
and  Mr.  Drew  thought  both  uncalled-for  and  opposed  to  the 
wishes  of  the  people. 

"I  cannot,"  said  Mr.  D.,  "affirm  what  are  the  sentiments  of 
the  societies  throughout  the  kingdom,  but  wherever  I  have  been 
I  believe  they  would  not  be  in  its  favour.  In  Cornwall,  I  am 
sure,  the  proposal  would  be  instantly  negatived." 

"  Cornwall,  sir  I"  it  was  replied,  "  surely  you  would  not  in- 
stance the  Cornish  Methodists  as  an  example  !  Why,  they  are 
the  mob  of  Methodism ;  they  have  always  been  rude  and  refract- 
ory." 

"  But  is  it  right,  sir,  to  impute  to  them  as  a  crime,  that  for 
which  they  are  rather  to  be  pitied,  as  their  misfortune  V 

"  I  do  not  understand  you,  Mr.  Drew.  For  what  are  they  to 
be  pitied 

'•  It  is  the  misfortune,  sir,  of  Cornisbmen  to  be  born  with  little 
mouths :  they  cannot  take  in  the  drenching-horn  of  ecclesi- 
astical authority." 


Whether  Mr.  Drew  was  of  opinion  that  a  state  religion,  in 
the  abstract,  is  desirable,  we  have  not  sufficient  evidence  to 
show ;  but,  like  his  friend  Dr.  Clarke,  he  uniformly  maintained, 
that,  in  England,  the  national  establishment,  with  all  its  alleged 
defects,  had  been  a  national  blessing.  "  From  all  that  I  have 
seen,"  he  has  more  than  once  remarked,  "  there  is  no  section 
of  the  church  universal  that  would  have  used  power  with  such 
moderation  as  the  ministers  of  the  Church  of  England ;  and  the 
day  which  shall  transfer  their  power  to  any  other  Christian  sect 
with  its  present  prejudices  and  prepossessions,  the  nation  will 
long  deplore." 

Until  after  his  removal  from  St.  Austell,  Mr.  Drew  never  par- 
took of  the  Eucharist.  On  being  asked  why,  he  replied,  "  I 
doubt  its  being  designed  for  a  perpetual  ordinance ;  and  knowing 
that '  whatsoever  is  not  of  faith  is  sin,'  I  think  it  right  to  abstain. 
But  I  do  not  wish  my  conduct  to  be  a  rule  for  others.  Let  every 
man  be  fully  persuaded  in  his  own  mind."  His  sentiments  re- 
specting the  Lord's  Supper  so  far  changed  in  his  latter  years, 
Ff 


338 


APPENDIX. 


that,  during  his  residence  in  London,  he  was  a  regular  commu- 
nicant ;  but  he  regarded  it  as  a  mere  commemorative  act,  or 
token  of  discipleship, — not  as  an  efficacious  means  of  grace. 

Of  the  ritual  of  baptism  his  views  were  very  similar  to  those 
above  expressed.  "  I  have  never  yet,"  said  he,  "  seen  any  argu- 
ments for  the  perpetuity  of  water  baptisni  so  conclusive  as 
those  of  Robert  Barclay  against  its  continuance.  It  is,  1  think, 
but  fair  to  conclude,  that  if  this  were  to  be  a  standing  ordinance, 
more  explicit  directions  would  have  been  left  concerning  it." 

Some  one  inquiring  why  he  had  his  own  children  baptized, 
he  replied,  "  It  was  no  act  of  mine.  My  wife  wished  it,  and  1 
consented.  Though  it  could  do  the  children  no  good,  it  could 
do  no  harm." 

On  another  occasion,  being  asked  his  opinion  respecting  in- 
fant baptism,  he  replied,  "  I  would  attend  to  it  rather  as  a  civil 
institution  than  a  religious  ordinance.  The  pubHc  registration 
of  children  seems  legally  necessary." 

A  young  man,  whose  mind  was  perplexed  on  the  subject  of 
adult  baptism  applied  to  Mr.  Drew  for  advice,  saying  that  a 
friend  of  his  also  doubted  whether  it  were  not  a  duty  thus  to 
make  a  public  profession  of  the  Christian  faith.  "Far  be  it 
from  me,"  said  he,  "  to  persuade  you  to  the  contrary,  if  you 
have  any  such  misgivings.  I  cannot,  however,  see  that  priestly 
interference  is  necessary.  Can  you  not  relieve  your  consciences 
by  going  to  the  river  and  baptizing  one  another?" 

A  question  being  asked  of  Mr.  D.  about  plainness  of  dress,  he 
said,  "  On  this  subject  my  views  have  undergone  some  revolu- 
tion. Before  I  had  seen  so  much  of  the  world  as  now,  I  was  as 
severe  upon  superfluity  and  ornament  as  the  straitest  of  my 
sect.  I  have  since  learned  that  plainness  is  only  a  relative  term. 
The  Friends,  who  seem  to  have  settled  that  the  fitting  costume 
for  Christians  in  all  ages  and  countries  is  that  worn  by  George 
Fox  and  William  Penn  the  century  before  last,  have  stopped  far 
short  of  absolute  plainness.  The  men  have  dismissed  the  pos- 
terior buttons  and  collars  of  their  coats ;  but,  for  the  sake  of  con- 
sistency, the  skirts  ought  also  to  be  cut  off ;  and  the  flowing 
drapery  of  the  women  should  certainly  be  abridged.  Indeed,  the 
only  truly  plain  dress  for  either  sex,  that  I  can  imagine,  is  a  vest- 
ment of  undressed  hides,  closely  fitted  to  the  body  and  to  each 
separate  limb.  This  is  a  point  to  which  few,  I  think,  would  carry 
their  abhorrence  of  gaudy  attire.  Philosophically,  then,  I  take 
plainness  of  dress  to  be  that  which  is  such  in  relation  to  the 
ordinary  costume  of  individuals  of  the  same  age,  rank,  and 
country  ;  and  Scripinrally ,  that  higher  objects  than  the  adorning 
of  the  body  ought  to  engage  a  Christian's  attention." 

"  Do  you,  Mr.  Drew,"  inquired  a  gentleman,  "  regard  all  works 
of  fiction  as  injurious  V — "  Too  many,  sir,  certainly  are ;  not  be- 


SAYINGS  AND  OPINIONS. 


339 


cause  they  are  fictitious,  but  because  their  matter  is  such  as 
creates  a  morbid  appetite.  Fiction  has  been,  and  may  be,  made 
the  vehicle  of  most  important  instruction.  Parable,  which  is 
one  of  its  forms,  was  the  favourite  mode  of  teaching  of  Christ 
liimself ;  and  in  fable  we  have  transmitted  to  us  the  choice  lessons 
of  ancient  wisdom.  Well  constructed  tales  are  an  iUustration  of 
moral  precept, — they  render  that  plain  which  many  people 
scarcely  know  how  to  apply  in  practice.  Unhappily,  many  of 
our  modern  works  of  fiction,  by  delineating  passion  rather  than 
character,  and  giving  distorted  views  of  life,  morals,  and  religion, 
are  more  likely  to  be  injurious  than  beneficial.  But  to  condemn 
the  whole  for  the  delinquency  of  a  part  is  the  blindness  of  fanati- 
cism." 

Writing  to  a  gentleman  on  a  similar  topic,  Mr.  D.  remarked, 
"  This  class  of  publications  may  be  made  subservient  to  the  in- 
terests of  religion,  morality,  and  virtue.  Many  will  read  a 
lively  tale  who  will  not  enter  into  a  serious  subject;  and,  having 
caught  the  moral  which  lies  concealed  beneath  the  narrative, 
their  conduct  may  be  regulated  by  a  principle  which  they 
acquired  by  accident." 

One  of  his  children  asking  his  permission  to  attend  a  provin- 
cial theatre,  and  alleging  the  usual  arguments  in  favour  of  the 
drama,  Mr.  D.  repUed,  "  I  do  not  say  there  is  harm  in  dramatic 
exhibition ;  but  in  our  day  there  are  too  many  evils  associated 
with  it  to  receive  my  sanction.  The  general  voice  of  pious 
people  is  against  the  theatre, — I  believe  justly;  for  we  must 
judge  of  things,  not  as  they  ought  to  be,  bu.t  as  they  are.  Were 
I  to  assent  to  your  proposal,  1  should  plainly  subject  myself  to 
the  charge  of  inconsistency,  as  a  teacher  of  religion.  Until 
you  are  released  from  parental  control,  you  must,  therefore,  re- 
press your  curiosity ;  and  then  I  hope  you  will  be  able  to  judge 
for  yourself." 

"It  is,"  Mr.  D.  remarked,  "one  of  the  fatal  eifects  of  fallen 
human  nature,  that  our  passions  and  animal  propensities  come 
to  maturity  before  our  intellectual  powers.  Hence  arises  tlie 
necessity  of  caution,  instruction,  and  admonition;  and  they  only 
are  wise  who  profit  by  the  advice  they  receive." 


I 


"What  think  you  of  the  sermon,  Mr.  Drewl"  inquired  a 
friend  ;  "  Mr.  ,  you  know,  is  one  of  our  noted  preachers." 

"  I  think,  sir,  that,  deprived  of  their  long  O's  and  great  O's, 
many  such  discourses  could  be  contained  in  a  nutshell." 

On  another  occasion  he  said,  "  Many  preachers  would  never 
get  on  without  a  plentiful  supply  of  great  O's.  They  are  the 
chief  ingredients  of  their  sermons.  Not  only  do  they  furnish 
out  a  sentence,  but  they  are  conveniently  substituted  for 
thought  itself." 


340 


APPENDIX. 


"  You  do  not,  Mr.  Drew,"  said  a  person  on  hearing  him  quote 
an  expression  of  Pope's,  "  seem  so  bitter  an  enemy  to  the  poet 
as  some  of  our  zealous  ministers  are.  What  think  you,  sir,  of 
his  often  anathematized  couplet, 

'  For  modes  of  faith  let  senseless  zealots  fight, 
His  can't  be  wrong  whose  life  is  in  the  right?'  " 

"  I  think,  sir,  it  has  become  the  pulpit  fashion  to  decry  Pope ; 
but  it  is  easier  to  reprobate  than  disprove  his  positions.  When 
this  is  done  it  will  be  time  enough  to  censure  them."* 

Southey's  Life  of  Wesley  being  spoken  of  in  terms  of  repro- 
bation, as  giving  a  false  representation  of  Methodism  and  its 
founder,  Mr.  Drew  observed,  "  Though  Dr.  Southey's  book  may 
he  a  burlesque,  or  a  caricature,  I  believe  it  has  done  Methodism 
good  service.  Through  the  laureate's  work,  the  tenets  of  Me- 
thodism have  found  their  way  into  circles  previously  inaccessi- 
ble ;  and  his  picture,  though  distorted,  is  far  less  hideous  than 
the  monstrous  creations  of  fancy  which  it  helped  to  dispel." 

Having  been  informed  of  some  illiberal  remarks  made  by  a 
distinguished  preacher  in  a  public  company,  upon  the  comment- 
ary of  Dr.  Adam  Clarke,  Mr.  D.  observed,  "  I  really  wish  that 
popery  were  the  only  system  whose  leading  characters  would 
persuade_the  people  to  '  believe  as  the  church  believes ;'  but,  alas ! 
popery  is  not  the  onlyenemy  which  free  inquiry  has  to  encoun- 
ter. Dr.  Clarke  is  a  man  of  gigantic  mind,  as  well  as  profound 
learning,  and  has  too  firm  an  anchorage  in  the  affections  of  the 
people  at  large  for  unmanly  insinuations  to  injure.  He  wishes 
the  people  to  think  :  his  opponents  wish  them  to  be  of  a  more 
tractable  disposition." 

On  another  occasion,  alluding  to  the  censures  and  insinuations 
which  had  been  levelled  at  his  friend,  he  observed,  "  Dr.  Clarke 
is  an  eagle  that,  in  his  towering  flight,  cannot  be  overtaken  by 
birds  of  an  inferior  order,  and  must  therefore  be  shot." 

On  the  lamented  death  of  Dr.  Adam  Clarke,  Mr.  D.,  in  writing 
to  a  mutual  friend,  remarks,  "  A  good  conversational  life  of  him 
would  be  an  entertaining  and  instructive  work.    Boswell's  'Life 

*  A  gentleman  acquainted  with  Mr.  Drew  says,  "A  few  years  since, 
I  was  one  of  a  select  party  that  went  up  the  river,  in  a  small  steamer,  to 
Twickenham.  When  we  came  opposite  to  Pope's  villa,  Mr.  D.,  who 
was  with  us,  directed  our  attention  to  it,  and  making  some  observation, 
which  I  now  forget,  took  off  his  hat  '  in  honour,'  as  he  said,  '  of  departed 
greatness' — an  example  which  was  followed  by  nearly  every  gentleman 
present." 

Mr.  Drew  once  remarked  to  the  same  friend,  that  when,  in  company 
with  Dr.  Adam  Clarke  and  some  other  gentlemen,  he  went  to  visit  Prince 
Arthur's  Stone,  in  Cornwall,  the  doctor  said,  "  Let  us  uncover,  for  we  ar« 
now  on  classic  ground." — "  We  did  so,"  said  Mr.  D.,  "  and  involuntarily 
remained  silent  for  a  minute  or  two." 


SAYI3SGS  AND  OPINIONS. 


341 


of  Johnson'  formed  a  new  era  in  the  biographical  department  of 
En<?lish  literature.  It  is  a  mode  that  never  tires,  because  the 
speakers  arid  subjects  are  so  varied  and  interestingly  blended  to- 
gether. We  seem  to  join  in  colloquial  intercourse,  and  enjoy  a 
conversation  which  others  carry  on  for  our  instruction  and 
amusement." 

"  I  wonder,"  said  Mr.  D.  to  a  religious  friend,  "  that  people 
ever  sing  such  a  palpable  contradiction  as 

*  Eternity  thy  fountain  was, 
Which,  like  thee,  no  beginning  knew.' 

If  Eternity  were  the  fountain  of  Deity,  God  could  not  be  eternal. 
I  am  glad  to  see,  in  recent  editions  of  our  hymn-book,  dwellmg 
substituted  for  fuuyitain ;  but  still  it  is  a  botch.  The  absurdity, 
though  yet  retained,  is  not  less  glaring  in  this  line — 

'  'Tis  mystery  all — the  Immortal  dies  !' 

It  was  not  the  Godhead  but  the  human  body  of  Christ  that  ex- 
pired on  the  cross.    How  easy  to  change  immortal  for  incarnate .'" 

"  Poetry,"  Mr.  Drew  remarked  to  a  literary  friend,  "  is  about 
the  worst  article  that  can  be  carried  into  the  market  of  literature. 
Merit  is  no  criterion  by  which  circulation  may  be  calculated.  A 
happy  concurrence  of  wind  and  tide  may  sometimes  accomplish, 
in  a  lucky  moment,  what  no  talents  or  efforts  can  effect.  This 
will  throw  a  halo  round  an  author's  name,  and  then  all  lus  pro- 
ductions will  sell.  Even  when  uttering  the  most  consummate 
nonsense,  he  will  be  thought  to  '  snatch  a  grace  beyond  the 
reach  of  art.'  Nine-tenths  of  the  booksellers  in  London  know 
that  nine-tenths  of  mankind  are  fools,  and  must  be  treated 
accordingly." 


I 


Talking  of  a  subscription  to  assist  a  person  whose  property 
had  been  destroyed  by  fire,  "Is  it  just,"  asked  a  gentleman  of 
Mr.  Drew,  "  to  tax  the  public,  because  a  man  has  neglected  to 
ensure  his  goods,  or  chosen  to  be  his  own  ensurer  V 

"  This,  sir,"  said  he,  "  is  not  a  case  of  justice,  but  a  matter  of 
charity ;  and  charity  is  not  to  be  determined  by  the  gauge  of  im- 
prudence. If  your  objection  were  valid,  every  charitable  act 
would  be  strangled  in  the  birth.  A  man  who  has  been  impru- 
dent ought  not  to  be  relieved;  and  he  who  is  prudent  and  careful 
will  scarcely  need  relief.  Suspended  o*i  the  horns  of  such  a  di- 
lemma, charity  would  cut  but  a  sorry  figure." 

To  a  person  in  trade,  who  had  given  such  extensive  credit  as 
to  cause  serious  embarrassment  to  liimself,  and  pleaded,  in  justi- 
fication, that  from  him  who  would  borrow  we  are  not  to  turn 
Ff2 


842 


APPENDIX. 


away,  he  remarked,  "  It  is  of  no  use  to  talk  of  being  kind  to 
others,  until  we  have  the  means  of  being  kind  to  ourselves.  A 
generous  person  is  frequently  a  prey  of  the  lazy  and  careless. 
No  man  ought  to  give  away  his  living,  or  advance  on  credit  what 
there  is  no  probability  of  his  being  repaid,  and  what  he  cannot 
afford  to  lose." 

"Writing  to  a  young  tradesman,  Mr.  D.  observed,  "It  is  only  on 
diligence,  frugality,  and  prudent  management  that  the  smiles  of 
Divine  Providence  can  be  expected.  Without  the  use  of  legiti- 
mate means,  we  expect  miracle  rather  than  Providence  to  crown 
our  expectations  with  success." 

"  Take  care  of  your  credit,"  said  he  to  the  same  individual. 
"  Credit  is  a  tender  thing.  It  is  a  plant  that  needs  attention  in 
the  rearing,  and  may  be  soon  killed  by  neglect  or  exposure." 

Talking,  one  day,  about  success  in  business,  Mr.  D.  said,  "  I 
always  think  it  advantageous  to  a  young  tradesman  to  have  a 
narrow  capital." 

"  Why  so,  sir]"  it  was  asked. 

"  For  this  reason :  it  makes  him  guard  every  penny,  and  lay  it 
out  to  the  best  advantage  :  it  makes  him  cautious  whom  he 
credits,  and  diligent  in  collecting  his  debts.  You  rarely  see 
such  a  man  in  the  list  of  bankrupts." 

When  consulted  upon  the  propriety  of  a  young  kinsman's  emi- 
grating to  America,  he  replied,  "I  have  no  notion  of  young  men 
of  spirit  and  ability  wasting  the  prime  of  life  without  making  an 
exertion,  and  passing  all  their  days  in  poverty  and  depression. 
When  the  famine  was  sore  in  the  land  of  Canaan  there  was 
corn  in  Egypt,  and  thither  the  sons  of  .Jacob  repaired." 

To  the  same  individual  he  remarked,  "  America  will  not  sup- 
port you  in  idleness.  Industry,  carefulness,  and  frugality  are  as 
indispensable  there  as  in  England  :  and  without  them  you  must 
not  expect  to  be  elevated  above  the  necessity  of  continued  me- 
chanical labour.  It  has  been  the  misfortune  of  many  young 
men  to  begin  where  they  ought  to  end,  and  thus  killed  the  goose 
that  would  lay  eggs  of  gold." 

Advising  some  individuals  of  his  family,  on  their  first  becom- 
ing parents,  Mr.  P.  remarked,  "  Do  not  decorate  the  babe  in  ex- 
pensive finery.    This  is  a  grand  foible  into  which  most  young 
parents  fall ;  and  hence  the  adage,  that  '  whei-e  ycu  behold  a  fa-  i 
ther,  mother,  and  one  child,  you  generally  discover  three  fools i 
in  the  house.'    It  is  a  satire  upon  human  nature  to  reflect,  that! 
the  cradle  and  the  coffin,  our  entrance  and  our  exit,  should  bel 
scenes  of  fantastic  foppery  of  which  neither  subject  can  be  con- 1 
scions.    I  think  that  the  seeds  of  vanity  are  sometimes  sown  in  ^ 
the  cradle  by  parents,  who  afterward  complain  how  difficult  it 

to  weed  them  out," 


SAYINGS  AND  OPINIONS. 


343 


There  were  few  things  Mr.  Drew  reprobated  more  than  the 
disposition  of  people  in  middling  life  to  bring  up  their  daughters 
as  fine  ladies,  neglecting  useful  knowledge  for  showy  accomplish- 
ments. "  Tlie  notions,"  said  he,  "  which  they  acquire  of  their 
own  importance  is  in  an  inverse  ratio  to  their  true  value.  With 
just  enough  of  fashionable  refinement  to  disqualify  them  for  the 
duties  of  their  proper  station,  and  render  them  ridiculous  in  a 
higher  sphere,  what  are  such  fine  ladies  fit  for  \  Nothing  that  I 
know,  but  to  be  kept  like  wax  figures  in  a  glass  case.  Wo  to 
the  man  that  is  linked  to  one  of  them  !  If  half  the  time  and  mo- 
ney wasted  on  their  music,  dancing,  and  embroidery  were  em- 
ployed in  teaching  them  the  useful  arts  of  making  shirts  and 
mending  stockings,  their  present  qualifications,  as  wives  and 
mothers,  would  be  increased  fourfold." 

To  a  young  female  correspondent  he  wrote  thus  : — "  Pru- 
dence, frugality,  and  good  management  are  excellent  artists  for 
mending  bad  times.  They  occupy  but  little  room  in  any  dwell- 
ing, and  will  furnish  a  more  effectual  remedy  for  the  evils  of  life 
than  any  Reform  Bill  that  ever  passed  the  Houses  of  Parliament." 

"  You  seem  to  have  been  a  close  student  of  economy  in  your 
time,  Mr.  Drew,"  said  a  friend.  "  Did  you  begin  the  lesson 
early  ?" 

"  Yes,  sir;  necessity  obliged  me.  My  first  lesson  I  have  not 
forgotten.  When  I  was  a  boy,  I  somehow  got  a  few  pence, 
and  coming  into  St.  Austell  on  a  fair-day,  laid  all  out  on  a  purse. 
My  empty  purse  often  reminded  me  of  my  folly ;  and  the  recol- 
lection of  it  has  since  been  as  useful  to  me  as  Franklin's  whistle 
was  to  him." 

^  "We  talk  sometimes,"  said  Mr.  D.,  "of  the  distresses  and 
privations  of  the  poor,  and  compare  the  present  time  with  the 
past,  as  though  labourers,  and  people  generally,  were  better  cir- 
cumstanced in  the  last  generation  than  now.  Why,  sir,  the 
squire's  mansion  fifty  years  ago,  wanted  many  of  the  accommo- 
dations you  will  now  find  in  a  labourers  cottage.  A  working 
man  nowadays  reckons  on  getting  a  new  garment  frequently  ; 
but  1  remember  the  time  when  a  poor  man's  wedding-suit  was 
esteemed  a  provision  for  life.  Every  stripling  now  thinks  him- 
self destitute  of  proper  equipment  till  he  has  a  watch.  Within 
my  remembrance  only  a  few  of  the  wealthiest  would  presume 
to  carry  such  an  appendage.  No,  no,  sir:  unless  you  can  look 
back  half  a  century,  you  can  form  no  correct  opinion." 

In  the  course  of  conversation,  a  gentleman  repeating  the 
couplet, 

"  And  thou,  great  Chatham,  with  thy  latest  breath, 
Shalt  feel  thy  ruling  passion  strong  in  death," 


344 


APPENDIX. 


"  Is  it  possible,"  said  another  of  the  company,  "  for  the  soul,  just 
passing  into  another  world,  to  be  thus  governed  by  its  ordinary 

associations  V 

"  Not  only  possible,  sir,"  remarked  Mr.  Drew,  "  but  a  thing 
of  frequent  occurrence.  One  instance  of  the  '  ruling  passion 
strong  in  death'  I  remember,  just  fit  to  be  contrasted  with  that 
of  the  noble  patriot.  Many  years  ago,  an  old  gentleman,  not 
far  from  Plymouth,  who  had  grown  rich  by  government  con- 
tracts, was  on  his  death-bed.  Wishing  to  make  a  Christian  end, 
he  requested  to  have  read  to  him  the  first  and  last  chapters  of 
Job.  At  the  inventory  of  Job's  wealth,  the  old  gentleman  de- 
sired the  reader  to  pause,  that  he  might  duly  estimate  the 
value  of  each  item.  '  Now  how  much  will  fourteen  thousand 
sheep  amount  to  at  so  much  a  head  V  (naming  a  sum.) — '  It  will 
be  so  much.' — 'Well,  put  that  down.  And  how  much  are  six 
thousand  camels  worth  V  This  was  computed.  '  Put  that  down 
too.  And  the  thousand  yoke  of  oxen,  and  thousand  she-asses  I 
reckon  them,  and  put  down  the  amount.'  It  was  done.  '  Now 
cast  it  up,  and  tell  me  the  total.'  Being  informed  of  this,  he 
raised  his  dying  hands  in  admiration,  saying,  '  Oh !  what  a  happy 
man !  If  Job  were  living  now,  he  and  I  would  take  all  the 
Dock-yard  and  Navy  contracts  !'  " 

Talking  of  the  force  of  habit,  and  its  often  singular  effects,  Mr. 
D.  said,  "  I  was  walking  the  street  in  one  of  our  northern  towns, 
where  an  itinerant  fishmonger  was  bawling,  with  true  cockney 
modulation,  '  'Live  O,  'live  0 ;  all  alive  O  !'  Being  at  some  dis- 
tance from  the  coast,  it  struck  me  as  singular;  and  on  passing 
the  man,  I  inquired  what  fish  he  had  for  sale.  The  reply  was, 
'  Salt  herrings,  plase  your  honour.'  " 

"  Compounding  of  felony,"  Mr.  D.  once  remarked,  "  is  a  seri- 
ous oftence  in  our  statute-book ;  but  I  think  our  statesmen  might 
draw  a  useful  hint  from  the  private  practice  of  an  old  Quaker 
that  I  knew.  He  was  a  draper  and  grocer,  and,  being  in  an  ex- 
tensive way  of  business,  was  liable  to  many  depredations. 
Whenever  any  thing  was  stolen,  and  the  thief  undiscovered,  a 
regular  entry  was  made  in  a  book  which  he  called  ihe  /hief's 
leger,  and  kept  in  due  debtor  and  creditor  form.  In  case  of  a  thief 
being  detected,  the  old  man  made  no  ado ;  but,  very  calmly  invi- 
ting the  delinquent  to  walk  inside,  and  producing  the  book,  would 
say,  '  1  find,  friend,  by  my  account,  that  thee  dost  owe  so  and  so. 
Tliis  is  the  amount  charged  since  last  settlement ;  and  as  nobody 
has  been  found  out  but  tiise,  the  debt  is  thine.  But  if  thee  dost 
dispute  it,  thee  must  take  the  consequence.'  Where  there  was 
any  means  of  payment,  the  debt  was  generally  discharged,  and  a 
fresh  account  opened  with  the  next  dishonest  customer  who 
might  not  be  adroit  enough  to  escape  detection." 


In  writing  to  a  friend,  Mr.  D.  says,  "  \  ou  half  accuse  me  of 


SAYIKGS  AND  OPINIONS. 


345 


being  half  deluded  by  phrenology.  This,  I  can  assure  you,  is 
not  the  case.  I  should  not  hesitate  to  allow,  that  appearances 
on  the  head,  like  features  on  the  countenance,  may  furnish  prob- 
able indications  of  intellect  and  character ;  but  beyond  this,  I 
would  not  venture  one  step.  Like  Caterfelto's  cats,  Graham's 
earth  bathing-,  animal  magnetism,  and  velocipedes,  it  will  live  its 
day,  and  give  place  to  some  new  paper-kite  to  amuse  the  children 
of  John  Bull." 

An  individual  endeavouring  to  palliate  the  evils  of  slavery  in 
his  company,  Mr.  Drew  said,  "  Never,  sir,  attempt  to  name  that 
enormity  in  connection  with  any  thing  good.  It  is  the  hugest 
mass  of  crime  under  which  the  creation  has  ever  groaned !  It 
is  a  foul  blot  on  England's  scutcheon,  engrained  by  blood  and 
tears,  which  the  tears  and  blood  of  the  oppressors  will  scarcely 
wash  away." 

A  gentleman,  in  defending  an  untenable  position,  having  tried 
to  intrench  himself  behind  a  great  name,  Mr.  D.  remarked, 
"  Precedent  and  authority,  not  divinely  sanctioned,  are  but  the 
refuge  of  a  weak  understanding.  One  sound  argument  is  worth 
a  thousand  authorities." 

In  reference  to  the  misconduct  of  individuals  of  superior  intel- 
lect, Mr.  D.  observed,  "  The  world  is  justified  in  forming  great 
expectations  from  great  minds ;  and  in  proportion  as  these  defeat 
our  hopes,  the  deviation  from  the  line  of  prudent  conduct  be- 
comes the  more  conspicuous,  and  the  more  reprehensible." 

To  a  person  suffering  the  consequence  of  indiscretion,  he  said, 
"  You  may  now  levy  a  tax  on  past  misfortunes,  and  compel  re- 
collection to  mount  guard  on  futurity." 

To  a  young  friend  accustomed  to  indulge  in  sanguine  expect- 
ations he  remarked,  "  It  will  be  happy  for  us,  in  passing  through 
the  world,  if  we  learn  to  moderate  our  hopes,  by  accommoda- 
ting our  views  to  things  as  they  actually  exist — not  in  visionary 
theory,  but  in  real  life." 

Expostulating  very  freely  with  an  acquaintance,  Mr.  D.  ob- 
served, "  Friendship,  in  my  estimation,  becomes  debased  when 
it  forms  an  alliance  with  flattery." 

"  Are  our  affections,"  it  was  asked  of  Mr.  D.,  "  under  the  con- 
trol of  the  will  V 

"  Not  directhj  so,  sir ;  but  indirecthj  they  are.  We  may  avoid 
objects  that  would  entangle  them,  and  seek  those  by  which  they 
ought  to  be  engaged." 


346 


APPENDIX. 


To  a  person  disposed  to  indulge  in  unavailing  regret,  he  re- 
marked, "  Life  in  every  department  has  its  evils,  from  which  no 
condition  can  wholly  exempt  us  ;  but  there  is  another  and  a  bet- 
ter world  where  these  calamities  are  unknown.  To  secure  an 
interest  in  that  future  state  of  rest  and  peace  is  the  great  ob- 
ject to  which  all  other  things  should  be  rendered  subservient; 
since  the  great  business  of  life  is  to  prepare  for  death,  and  that 
of  time  to  prepare  for  eternity." 

"  Principles,"  he  once  remarked,  "  are  always  to  be  estimated 
by  their  effects;  and  those  are  the  most  valuable  which  produce 
the  richest  and  most  abundant  harvest.  Short  of  this,  all  is  idle 
theory  and  visionary  speculation.  General  principles  are  of 
general  apphcation,  and,  when  planted  with  care,  will  grow  in 
any  philosophical  soil." 

One  of  Mr.  Drew's  observations,  of  the  truth  of  which  he  was 
a  striking  illustration,  was,  "  A  ray  of  light  communicated  to  the 
understanding  is  of  more  value  to  the  mind  than  a  whole  volume 
conmiitted  to  the  memory.  This  is  like  water  in  a  cistern  which 
may  be  exhausted;  that  is  like  a  fountain,  yielding  a  continual 
supply." 

Alluding  to  the  extreme  aptitude  of  some  persons,  who  have 
more  pride  than  understanding,  to  take  offence  at  little  things, 
he  said,  "  There  is  nothing  but  combustible  matter  that  will  take 
fire  at  a  squib." 

In  reference  to  the  supercilious  conduct  of  individuals  whose 
pride  ill  accorded  with  their  altered  circumstances,  Mr.  Drew- 
remarked,  "  Those  who  fall  from  crows'  nests  are  generally 
high-bred." 

To  a  young  man  in  trade,  he  said,  "  Never  shrink  from  doing 
any  thing  which  your  business  calls  you  to.  The  man  who  is 
above  his  business  may  one  day  find  his  business  above  him." 

Some  one  acquainting  Mr.  Drew  that  a  very  worthy  individual, 
whom  he  knew,  had  been  unsuccessful  in  business,  "Yes," 

said  he,  "  poor  M  has  met  with  losses  ;  but  it  is  less  painful 

to  see  any  one  unfortunate  than  deserving  to  be  so." 

One  of  his  proverbial  sayings,  in  reference  to  tardiness  of  de- 
cision and  execution  where  many  persons  are  concerned,  was, 
"  Large  bodies  move  slowly." 

"In  our  inquiries  after  causes,"  Mr.  Drew  remarked,  "the 
question  will  always  outlive  the  reply." 

"  He,"  said  Mr.  D.,  "  who  wails  till  all  objections  are  answered, 
will  never  undertake  an  enterprise." 


SAYINGS  AND  OPINIONS. 


347 


"  As  daylight  can  be  seen  through  little  holes,  so,"  said  he, 
"  we  may  judge  of  a  person's  character  by  small  actions  as  well 
as  great." 

Advising  an  acquaintance,  who  was  disposed  to  be  needlessly 
busy  about  other  people's  affairs,  he  remarked,  "  About  my  own 
concerns  I  have  scarcely  ever  got  into  trouble ;  but  in  many 
cases  I  have  burnt  my  fingers  in  other  people's  fires." 

Referring  to  certain  philosophical  speculatists,  he  observed, 
"Science,  like  invention,  has  its  dreams,  and  sometimes  years 
are  required  to  awaken  the  visionary  from  his  trance." 

The  austerity  and  repulsive  manners  of  some  distinguished 
individuals  being  a  subject  of  remark,  Mr.  D.  said,  "  Theirs,  then, 
is  not  light  without  heat:  they  not  only  shine  with  brilliancy  at 
a  distance,  but  scorch  those  who  approximate  more  nearly." 

Referring  to  those  plausibilities  by  which  we  often  impose 
upon  ourselves,  he  once  remarked,  "■Esteem  sometimes  so  gilds 
the  vices  of  those  who  are  its  objects,  that  we  perceive  nothing 
but  fashionable  infirmity,  or  spirit,  where  we  ought  to  behold 
criminality." 

"  When  we  see  a  friend  on  the  brink  of  a  precipice,  and 
wholly  insensible  of  his  danger,"  Mr.  D.  once  observed,  "  our 
hand  should  be  stretched  out  with  eagerness  to  snatch  him  from 
his  fate.  His  condition  leaves  us  no  room  to  parley.  While 
we  pass  through  the  etiquette  of  ceremonial,  his  fate  may  be- 
come inevitable." 

Admonishing  a  young  lady,  he  once  observed,  "  I  can  caution 
you  against  certain  rocks  and  shoals  which  lie  in  the  channel  of 
life  ;  but  I  cannot  direct  you  how  to  make  infallibly  a  prosper- 
ous voyage.  If  calamities  overtake  us  when  we  have  made  use 
of  every  prudent  means  to  avoid  them,  we  ensure  to  ourselves 
this  consolation,  that  they  are  not  the  result  of  our  own  indis- 
cretion ;  and  this  consolatory  reflection  will  more  than  half 
counteract  the  pain  of  disappointment.  When,  on  the  contrary, 
those  distresses  overtake  us  which  the  exercise  of  prudence 
would  have  taught  us  to  avoid,  we  are  doomed  to  the  anguish 
of  remorse,  and  the  mortification  which  results  from  the  painful 
reflection." 

Writing  to  a  friend,  Mr.  Drew  used  these  expressions  :  "  That 
philosophy  which  does  not  lead  our  views  to  heavenly  objects, 
and  teach  us  to  prepare  for  eternity,  is  vain  and  delusive. 
Modern  libertines,  by  '  spiking  up  their  inch  of  reason  on  a 
point  of  philosophic  wit  called  argument,'  will  laugh  at  this,  as 


348 


APPENDIX. 


the  language  of  dotage  or  enthusiasm.  Be  it  so.  I  hope  I  shall 
form  my  calculations  for  eternity ;  in  which,  whether  it  be  a 
reality  or  a  chimera,  I  am  not  afraid  of  being  derided  by  them 
hereafter." 

Alluding  to  sympathy  for  the  distresses  of  others,  he  ob- 
served, "  Compassion  will  frequently  thaw  the  tide  of  grief 
which  freezes  round  our  hearts  ;  but  it  only  clears  the  avenues 
of  what  was  too  big  for  utterance,  and  leaves  them  open  to  the 
influx  of  returning  sorrows." 

To  a  young  female  correspondent  he  remarked,  "When 
visionary  and  ideal  schemes  of  Utopian  happiness  gain  r.n  ascend- 
ency in  our  minds,  they  become  a  source  of  real  unhappiness, 
by  holding  out  to  our  views  such  exalted  ideas  of  perfection  as 
the  present  deranged  state  of  things  is  not  calculated  to  afford. 
We  murder  actual  happiness  by  grasping  at  that  which  is  unreal." 

Advising  the  same  person,  on  the  subject  of  matrimonial  feli- 
city, Mr.  D.  writes,  "  The  abode  of  intellectual  greatness  is  not 
always  the  habitation  of  domestic  happiness.  Yet  where  splendid 
talents,  sanctified  by  divine  grace,  combine  with  all  the  social 
virtues,  that  bosom  becomes  the  seat  of  tranquillity ;  and  when 
two  cf  this  stamp  unite, 

*  When  heart  meets  heart,  reciprocally  soft. 
Each  other's  pillow  to  repose  divine,' 

it  forms  the  most  finished  picture  of  Paradise  that  earth  can 
possibly  exhibit." 

"  Domestic  happiness,"  he  observed  to  one  of  his  own  chil- 
dren, "  is  a  guest  well  worthy  of  being  cherished.  Coronets  and 
crowns  cannot  purchase  his  presence.  He,  however,  possesses 
delicate  feelings,  and  sometimes  takes  his  departure  in  a  manner 
as  abrupt  as  unexpected.  At  first  he  comes  a  volunteer,  and 
may  be  easily  retained ;  but  when  once  he  has  left  a  habitation, 
scarcely  any  contrivances  can  induce  him  to  return.  He  is  be- 
yond a  bribe,  but  not  insensible  to  insult ;  and  such  are  his  habits, 
that  he  never  forsakes  a  house  into  which  he  has  once  entered, 
without  first  receiving  some  ill  usage." 

On  another  occasion,  he  remarked,  "  A  little  care  will  cause 
the  torch  of  Hymen  to  burn  long,  and  yield  a  brilliant  flame." 

To  a  lady  who  asked  his  opinion  on  the  true  sources  of  connu- 
bial happiness,  he  replied,  "  A  mutual  affection,  lighted  on  the 
altar  of  virtue,  is  the  only  lamp  that  is  inextinguishable.  This, 
under  the  inflLuence  of  divine  grace,  will  continue  to  burn  with 
undiminished  lustre,  amid  the  storms,  the  adversities,  and  the 
vicissitudes  of  this  checkered  life. 


LETTERS  OF  RELIGIOUS  COUNSEL. 


To  Miss  Hooke. 

«  St.  Austell,  Dec.  13,  1809. 

"  My  dear  Friend, 
"  You  ask  me  how,  and  where,  you  may  find 

'  What  nothing  earthly  gives,  or  can  destroy, — 
The  soul's  calm  sunshine  and  the  heartfelt  joy. 

"  In  reply  to  this  question,  I  would  recommend  you  to  the  re- 
ligion of  Jesus  Christ,  which  alone  is  able  to  '  cast  down  imagi- 
nations, and  every  high  thing  that  exalteth  itself  against  the 
knowledge  of  God,'  and  which  'brings  into  captivity  every 
thought  to  the  obedience  of  Christ.'  (2  Cor.  x.  5.)  This, 
my  friend,  you  will  find  to  be  '  profitable  to  all  things,  having 
promise  of  the  life  that  now  is,  and  of  that  which  is  to  come.' 
This,  you  say,  the  '  philosopher  will  contradict,  and  will  tell  us 
that  happiness  consists  in  wisdom,  reasoning,  and  a  true  know- 
ledge of  ourselves.'  Be  it  so.  But  can  you  have  any  'true 
knowledge  of  yourself,'  while  you  are  ignorant  of  your  moral  re- 
lation to  God !  Just '  reasoning'  will  teach  you,  that,  instead  of 
being  at  variance,  religion  and  philosophy  go  hand  in  hand ;  and 
genuine  '  wisdom'  will  enable  us  to  perceive  the  coincidence  be- 
tween them.  To  know  ourselves  is  to  know  the  moral  relation 
in  which  we  stand  to  God;  and  to  know  that  relation  is  to  view 
our  interest  in  eternity ;  and  to  know  this  interest  is  to  see  the 
necessity  of  being  prepared  for  the  future  events  which  await  us, 
and  to  be  taught  to  prepare  to  meet  our  God. 

'  Know  then  thyself:  all  wisdom  centres  there.' 

"  You  lay  it  down  as  a  first  principle,  that '  religion  'is  not  es- 
sential to  our  happiness.'  Wisdom,  if  properly  consulted,  will 
teach  you  to '  beware  lest  any  man  spoil  you  through  philosophy.' 


350 


APPENDIX. 


(Col.  ii.  8.)  That  the  human  soul  is  immortal,  and  must  retain 
its  susceptibility  of  pain  or  pleasure  through  eternity,  I  flatter 
myself  you  will  not  doubt.  And  if  this  be  admitted,  it  would 
be  folly  to  talk  of  happiness  which  bears  no  relation  to  futurity. 
That  happiness  is  not  essential  to  human  nature  in  its  present 
state,  the  sigh  which  heaves  your  bosom  when  you  read  this 
will  probably  inform  you.  If  not  essential,  then,  it  must  be  de- 
rived ;  and  between  the  object  which  confers  and  the  disposition 
which  receives  the  blessing  there  must  be  an  agreement.  If, 
therefore,  we  derive  our  happiness  from  any  thing  with  which 
eternity  cannot  furnish  us,  all  our  felicity  must  be  confined  to 
time ;  but  surely  my  friend  will  not  call  that  happiness  which 
gives  felicity  in  time,  but  confers  none  in  eternity.  True  happi- 
ness must  consist  in  something  which  can  neither  expire  nor 
change,  but  which  must  run  parallel  with  our  being ;  and  our  quali- 
fication for  its  enjoyment  can  only  be  found  in  the  resemblance 
which  we  bear  to  Him  on  whom  we  must  be  dependent  for  ever. 

"  To  confirm  your  principle,  you  appeal  to  the  '  great  examples 
of  the  heathen  world  ;'  and  allude  to  men  who  were  '  adorned 
with  every  virtue  that  can  ennoble  human  nature.'  I  grant  all 
their  greatness ;  but  contend,  that  what  we  call  their  virtues  was 
their  religion :  and  had  we  lived  in  their  age,  and  under  tlieir 
light,  these  virtues  would  have  been  ours.  But  I  think  you  will 
find,  on  an  impp.rtial  examination,  that  it  is  neither  true  wisdom 
nor  just  reasoning  to  measure  ourselves  by  their  standard.  We 
live  in  an  age  where  brighter  lights  have  been  displayed,  and 
greater  truths  have  been  revealed ;  and,  consequently,  greater 
improvements  are  expected  from  us  than  were  expected  from 
them.    It  is  with  an  eye  to  this  that  Dr.  Young  says, 

'As  wise  as  Socrates  might  justly  stand 
The  definition  of  a  modern  fool.' 

'  Virtue,'  you  say,  '  may  exist  without  religion.'  Now  virtue  (or 
morality)  must  spring  either  from  a  good  motive  or  a  bad  one : 
— if  from  a  good  one,  wherein  does  it  differ  from  religion  1 
if  from  'a  bad  one,  how  can  you  give  it  the  name  of  virtue T 
Whenever  morality  springs  from  a  proper  motive,  religion  is 
the  root  from  which  this  motive  grows,  and  the  virtues  that 
spring  from  it  constitute  its  practical  part.  True  virtue,  there- 
fore, does  not  stand  alone ;  it  arises  from  a  noble  principle  with 
which  it  is  inseparably  connected  ;  and  that  which  flows  not  from 
this  radical  principle  is  but  a  counterfeit,  because  it  wants  a  j 
proper  ground  on  which  to  stand ;  and  it  is  therefore  unworthy  | 
of  the  name,  though  it  wears  an  imposing  aspect.  It  has  what 
Milton  calls,  'semblance  of  worth,  not  substance.' 

"  Daylight  and  paper  now  fail  me  together.  I  must  therefore 
conclude,  with  my  best  wishes  for  your  happiness  in  time  and 
in  eternity. 

"  I  remain  your  sincere  friend, 

"  Samuel  Drew." 


RELIGIOUS  COUNSEL. 


351 


To  his  eldest  Soti. 

"St.  Austell,  March  28,  1814. 

"  My  dear  Son, 

"  On  the  divine  origin  of  the  Scriptures,  the  evidence  is  accu- 
mulative ;  and  it  must  be  gathered  from  a  combination  of  facts, 
incidents,  predictions,  prodigies,  and  events,  which  unite  toge- 
ther to  form  the  immoveable  basis  on  which  it  rests.  From  its 
own  nature,  the  divine  origin  of  the  Scriptures,  if  true,  must  be 
an  historical  fact.  Now  no  historical  fact  can  be  icnown  by  in- 
tuition:—it  cannot  be  demonstrated  : — it  will  not  admit  of  sensi- 
tive proof.  Moral  certainty  is  the  highest  species  of  proof  of 
which  it  can  possibly  be  susceptible.  Hence  the  evidence  is 
accumulative.  This  evidence  of  moral  certainty  it  has;  and  he 
who  expects  to  find  it  supported  by  a  higher  degree  of  evidence 
acts  a  part  which  is  truly  irrational.  To  combine  together  the 
varied  branches  of  this  evidence  must  be  the  work  of  time  and 
leisure.  This  has  been  done  by  Newton,  Locke,  Boyle,  and 
other  moral  philosophers,  in  such  a  manner  as  to  place  their 
own  minds  in  a  state  of  settled  conviction. 

"  Compare  the  present  state  of  the  Jews  with  the  predictions 
which  relate  to  them,  and  the  finger  of  God  will  become  visible 
in  both.  This  approximates  very  nearly  to  sensitive  proof.  The 
primitive  progress  of  the  gospel  proves  its  origin  to  he  divine. 
The  internal  spiritual  experience  of  true  believers  alTords  an  evi- 
dence which  is  incontrovertible;  but  tlieii  it  is  jjersonal,  and  its 
energy  cannot  be  communicated  by  him  who  has  it. 

"  But,  admitting  Christianity  to  be  wrong,  and  Deism  to  be 
right,  Christians  have  nothing  to  fear.  Deism  discards  faith, 
and  professes  to  cherish  morality.  Now,  if  the  former  be  right, 
Christianity  cannot  be  wrong ;  because  it  inculcates  morals  on 
better  principles  than  Deism  can  produce.  No  man  is  a  Chris- 
tian whose  morals  will  not  rise  higher  than  those  which  Deism 
recommends.  But  if,  on  the  contrary,  faith  be  essentially  ne- 
cessary to  salvation,  as  Christianity  asserts,  and  Deism  denies, 
the  case  of  infidels  must  be  dreadful  indeed.  The  same  argu- 
ment will  hold  good  with  respect  to  Socinianism  and  the  Atone- 
ment. 

"  Do  not  neglect  to  pray  that  God  would  give  you  a  right 
understanding  in  all  things,  especially  in  those  which  involve 
your  eternal  interests.  These  are  too  serious  to  be  trifled  with. 
The  realities  of  eternity  are  too  awful  for  speculative  curiosity 
to  manage,  or  even  for  human  science  to  determine  by  any  of  its 
established  rules.  We  may  judge  of  fads ;  but  the  maimer  in 
which  they  exist  must  necessarily  be  unknown.  Reason  has 
its  boundaries  ;  and  beyond  these  we  must  rely  on  what  God  has 
revealed,  although  we  may  find  many  things  which  are  utterly- 
incomprehensible. 

"  Pray  to  God  to  give  you  internal  religion,  and  then  theories 


352 


APPENDK. 


will  appear  of  comparatively  small  importance.    '  Christ  in  us 
the  hope  of  glory'  will  prove  his  divinity;  and  feeling  'redemp- 
tion in  his  blood  the  forgiveness  of  sins,'  will  substantiate  the 
atonement  which  he  has  made. 
"  God  bless  you.  Farewell. 

"  Your  loving  father, 

"  S.  Drew. 

"  I  do  pray  for  your  eternal  welfare  every  day.  I  hope  God 
will  hear  my  prayers  in  your  behalf." 

To  the  Same. 

"  St.  Austell,  May  22,  1814. 

"  My  dear  Son, 

"  You  say,  you  '  feel  no  burden.'  In  this  your  condition  is 
like  that  of  thousands,  whose  greatest  burden  is  that  they  do 
not  feel  it.  This  is  of  little  consequence,  provided  you  feel  the 
depravity  of  your  own  heart,  and  seek  to  be  delivered  from  it. 
God  works  in  various  ways.  Some  are  driven  by  terror,  while 
others  are  drawn  by  love.  In  all  things,  by  prayer  and  supplica- 
tion let  your  requests  be  made  known  to  God  ;  and,  when  this 
is  practised,  his  promises  bind  him  to  bless  your  soul.  Never 
do  I  miss  a  day  in  praying  for  you  ;  and  I  feel  a  confidence  in 
God,  that  he  will  communicate  the  blessings  your  soul  desires. 

"  I  do  not  think  that  devotional  exercises  will  ever  prove  an 
impediment  to  your  literary  pursuits.  It  is  a  Scotch  proverb, 
that '  prayer  and  provender  never  retard  a  journey.'  I  would  by 
no  means  urge  you  to  join  the  Methodist  society,  unless  you 
see  your  way  perfectly  clear,  and  are  convinced  that  it  is  your 
duty.  And,  on  the  same  principle,  I  will  add,  when  convinced 
that  it  is  a  duty,  by  no  means  omit  it.  In  this  also,  I  trust,  God 
will  be  your  instructor.    The  Lord  bless  you.  Farewell. 

"  S.  Drew." 

To  the  Same. 

"  St.  AusteU,  June  13,  1814. 

"  My  dear  Son, 

"  I  hope  your  face  is  still  towards  Zion,  and  that  you  cherish 
your  convictions.  Convictions  for  sin  are  instruments  in  the 
hands  of  God,  which  derive  their  influence  from  the  purity  of  the 
divine  nature,  and  from  the  holiness  of  God's  laws.  'The  law 
is  our  schoolmaster,  to  bring  us  to  Christ, — in  whom  are  hidden 
all  the  treasures  of  wisdom  and  knowledge.' 

"  The  end  of  the  gospel  is  to  set  before  us  the  readiness  of 
God  to  save  us ;  and  also  to  display  the  plan  which  he  has  estab- 
lished for  our  salvation.  This  plan  is  through  the  merits  of  our 
Lord  Jesus  Christ. 


RELIGIOUS  COUNSEL. 


353 


"  It  is  vain  for  us  to  ask,  whether  God  could  not  have  dis- 
covered another  way  for  the  recovery  of  human  nature  from  its 
fall.  Our  business  is  with  what  he  has  done,  and  with  what  he 
has  revealed.  No  doubt,  he  could  have  devised  methods  for  the 
sustenance  of  our  lives  without  the  tedious  process  of  nutrition 
drawn  from  food,  which  can  only  be  procured  by  toil  and  trouble. 
But  we  are  assured,  by  evidence  a  prion,  that  the  present  method 
is  the  best,  or,  at  least,  that  none  could  be  better;  otherwise  a 
Being  of  infinite  wisdom  must  have  adopted  it.  The  same  re- 
marks will  apply,  with  equal  force,  to  Providence  in  all  its  ob- 
scurities, and  to  the  empire  of  grace  in  all  its  mysteries.  No 
finite  being  can  trace  the  ascending  scale  of  infinite  possibilities ; 
so  that  we  are  compelled  to  trust  God  where  we  cannot  trace 
his  ways.  Endeavour,  my  dear,  to  be  humble,  to  be  teachable, 
to  read  God's  word;  and,  above  all  things,  to  let  your  wants  be 
made  known,  in  all  these  duties,  by  prayer  and  supplication  to 
the  throne  of  grace.  I  trust  that  the  Lord  will  bless  and  keep 
you.  Be  much  in  earnest,  in  expecting  the  blessings  which 
God  has  promised  to  bestow.  Many  trials  and  difficulties  you 
must  expect  to  encounter;  but  God  has  promised,  '  My  grace  is 
sufficient  for  thee.'  Wisdom,  strength,  knowledge,  and  forgive- 
ness may  be  obtained  from  God,  who  commands  us  to  ask,  and 
receive,  that  our  joy  may  be  full.  With  the  most  affectionate 
love  of  all  our  family, 

"  I  remain, 

"  Your  affectionate  father, 

"  Sa.vuel  Drew." 

To  the  Same. 

'  "  St.  Austell,  June  26,  1814. 

"  Mv  DEAR  Son, 

"  I  now  turn  to  your  observations  respecting  your  becoming  a 
member  of  the  Methodist  society.  You  have  stated  the  advan- 
tages and  dangers  with  much  precision,  so  far  as  you  have  pur- 
sued them ;  but  you  have  stopped  short.  I  am  inclined  to  think, 
that,  while  you  remain  without  the  pale  of  Methodism,  you  will 
be  exposed  to  many  temptations  from  which  membership  would 
shield  you.  Multitudes  will  deem  it  a  hopeless  task  to  attempt 
the  seduction  of  one  who  has  deliberately  taken  a  decided  part. 

"  The  advantage,  also,  of  comnmnicating  to  others  your  hopes, 
your  fears,  and  of  finding  that  your  condition  is  that  which  is 
common  to  all,  together  with  receiving  instruction  from  the 
more  experienced,  will  be  considerable  indeed.  You  say  that 
you  have  '  suspicions  of  your  future  stability.'  I  view  these  as 
more  favourable  presages  than  if  you  had  none.  Fear  is,  many 
times,  not  less  friendly  than  hope.  You  have  more  to  appre- 
hend from  being  alone. 

"  You  say  that '  the  members  of  the  society  profess  to  have 
Gg2 


354 


APPENDIX. 


'  experienced  a  change  of  heart,  which  is  not  your  case.'  This 
may  be  true.  But  this  is  no  reason  why  you  should  remain  at 
a  distance.  '  The  whole  need  not  a  physician,  but  they  that  are 
sick.'  The  only  condition  of  membership  is,  '  an  earnest  desire 
to  flee  from  the  wrath  to  come,  accompanied  with  a  life  corre- 
spondent with  that  desire.' 

"Nevertheless,  I  again  advise  you  to  do  nothing  rashly. 
Make  it  a  matter  of  prayer  to  God,  and  he  will  direct  you.  I  did 
not  mean  to  make  the  distinction  between  the  necessity  and  ex- 
pediency of  joining  the  society,  which  you  have  noted.  In  cases 
like  these,  that  which  is  expedient  may  be  deemed  necessary,  and 
should  be  implicitly  followed,  if  nothing  on  the  opposite  side  be 
found  to  counteract  it.  Methodism,  no  doubt,  has  to  mouro 
over  many  unworthy  members  ;  but,  at  the  same  time,  I  am  per- 
suaded that  it  can  boast  of  more  converted  souls  than  any  sect  in 
England.  In  point  of  doctrine  and  discipline,  imperfections  may 
be  found ;  but  to  remove  these  will  be  to  introduce  others 
of  greater  magnitude.  My  paper  is  done.  May  the  Lord  bless 
you,  and  help  you!  so  prays  daily 

"  Your  affectionate  father, 

"  Samuel  Drew." 

To  the  Same. 

"  St.  Austell,  July  5th,  1814. 

"  My  DEAR  Jacob, 

"  Independently  of  its  peculiar  modes,  the  great  realities  of 
religion  have  a  claim  upon  us.  By  nature  we  are  sinners.  We 
cannot  save  ourselves.  Supernatural  assistance  is  therefore  ne- 
cessary ;  and  this  can  only  come  from  God.  A  deep  sense  of 
our  unvvorthiness  and  wants,  and  a  firm  persuasion  that  God, 
through  Jesus  Christ,  is  ready  to  receive  sinners,  are  the  only 
qualifications  which  are  necessary  to  our  coming  to  the  Saviour. 
Thus  far,  my  dear  son,  1  think  you  have  been  brought.  Nothing 
remains,  but  that  you  throw  yourself,  by  simple  faith,  on  the 
Saviour  of  the  world.  Faith  and  prayer  are  inseparably  con- 
nected. Prayer  is  the  means  of  application ;  faith,  that  of  union. 
Faith  is  the  gift  of  God,  in  answer  to  earnest  prayer.  Faith,  in 
its  first  operations,  is  prospective ;  it  anticipates,  and  expects, 
and  waits  for,  pardon  for  the  soul.  Hence  faith  precede*  justifi- 
cation, and  is  the  instrument  of  it.  But  when  a  sense  of  pardon 
is  communicated  to  the  soul,  faith  has  a  retrospective  operation, 
and  is  accompanied  with  gratitude  and  love.  From  this  com- 
munication of  favour  practical  obedience  springs ;  and  the  grace 
with  which  it  is  accompanied  tends  to  purify  the  heart.  Such, 
my  dear  son,  in  my  view,  are  the  outlines  of  experimental  and 
practical  godliness.  May  we  all  live  and  die  in  the  enjoyment 
of  it. 

s'  You  will  plainly  perceive,  from  the  preceding  delineation. 


RELIGIOUS  COUNSEL. 


355 


that  name,  and  sect,  and  mode,  and  ceremony  have  no  real  con- 
nection whatever  with  genuine  religion.  They  may  coexist,  or 
they  may  be  disjoined.  The  jewel  may  be  possessed  where  the 
trappings  are  not,  and  the  trappings  may  be  where  the  jewel  is 
absent.  On  these  accounts,  I  wish  you  to  mature  your  mind  on 
the  propriety  of  becoming  a  member  of  the  society,  that,  having 
fixed,  you  may  feel  no  wish  to  retract.  Far  be  it  from  me  to 
drop  these  hints  to  deter  you,  or  to  throw  obstacles  in  your 
way.  On  the  contrary,  I  rather  consider  them  as  rational  in- 
ducements; being  well  assured,  that  the  more  minutely  you  ex- 
amine the  Methodist  doctrines,  the  more  fully  a'ou  will  be  con- 
vinced of  their  being  both  scriptural  and  rational.  And  I  am 
firmly  persuaded,  that  there  is  more  sterling  piety  among  the 
Methodists  than  among  any  other  denomination  of  Christians 
with  whom  I  am  acquainted. 

"That  Christian  communion  is  recommended  in  Scripture,  is 
a  truth  too  evident  to  be  disputed.  '  They  that  feared  the  Lord 
spake  often  one  to  another.'  (Mai.  iii.  16.)  And  we  are  cau- 
tioned against  the  '  forsaking  the  assembling  of  ourselves  toge- 
ther.' (Heb.  X.  25.)  Indeed,  it  is  by  Christian  communion  that 
we  mutually  help  each  other,  and  provoke  one  another  to  love 
and  good  works.  It  is  by  this  that  we  guard  each  other  from 
falling  a  prey  to  temptation,  and  receive  assistance  in  being  re- 
stored, when  overcome  by  any  evil.  Great  and  manifold  are  the 
advantages  which  arise  from  Christian  fellowship  on  earth,  as 
preparatory  to  a  communion  of  the  saints  in  heaven. 

"  Nevertheless,  you  must  not  expect  to  find  perfection  in  any 
society  that  is  formed  of  mortals.  Frailties,  imperfections, 
errors,  and  deviations  from  rectitude  seem  to  be  incorporated 
with  the  nature  of  man;  so  just  it  is, 

'That  truest  friends,  through  error,  wound  our  peace.' 

"But  what  are  these  imperfections,  when  compared  with  the 
advantages  which  are  connected  with  them  1  Nay,  what  are 
they,  when  compared  with  the  evils  which  we  must  endure  if 
we  avoid  them  1  Solitude  and  seclusion  are  inconsistent  with 
the  nature  of  civil  society  ;  and,  even  if  they  could  be  enjoyed, 
they  would  become  nurseries  of  vice,  unless  the  appetites  were 
regulated  by  divine  grace.  In  civil  society,  where  no  profession 
of  religion  is  made,  you  will  rarely  find  any  religion  to  exist. 
Simple  morality  may  make  an  amiable  citizen;  but,  being  con- 
fined exclusively  to  the  present  life,  it  makes  no  provision  or 
preparation  for  eternity.  And,  in  addition  to  this,  as  it  leaves 
the  heart  unaffected,  it  renders  our  situation  the  more  dangerous  ; 
because  the  aspect  being  pleasing,  the  avenui^s  of  conviction  are 
completely  shut.  I  need  not  add,  that  immoral  companions 
require  no  remarks. 

"Amid  this  view  of  things,  make  it,  my  dear  son,  a  matter  of 
prayer  to  God ;  and,  when  this  is  done  with  earnestness,  he  will 
never  fail  to  direct  your  steps.   Mr.  J  B  has  lately  be- 


356 


APPENDIX. 


come  a  member  of  our  society.  He  became  so  from  a  personal 
conviction  of  duty.  No  one,  he  says,  could  have  persuaded  him, 
and  no  dissuasives  could  have  deterred  him.  This  was  acting 
nobly.  It  discovered  an  independent  and  rational  spirit.  May 
Jacob  Drew  follow  his  example. 

"  I  remain  your  affectionate  father, 

"  Samuel  Drew." 

To  the  Same. 

"  St.  Austell,  Feb.  15,  1815. 

"  My  dear  Son, 

"  On  the  principal  points  of  difficulty  which  you  have  started, 
I  will  endeavour  to  make  some  remarks.  May  God  render  them 
a  blessing  to  your  soul. 

"  Your  first  difficulty  arises  from  the  term  'kingdom  of  God, 
which  seems  to  be  used  in  Scripture  in  various  senses.'  I  reply, 
that,  in  Scripture,  the  expression  '  kingdom  of  God,'  or  '  heaven,' 
is  used  in  three  senses.  Fiist,  it  applies  to  the  light  of  the  gospel 
as  the  means  of  salvation.  Secondly,  it  implies  experimental 
religion,  or  the. love  of  God  shed  abroad  in  the  heart.  Thirdly, 
it  implies  the  kingdom  of  glory  beyond  the  grave.  Now,  I  am 
inclined  to  think,  that  you  will  not  be  able  to  find  any  expression 
in  the  Bible  but  what  may,  without  difficulty,  be  ranged  under 
one  of  the  preceding  heads.  When,  therefore,  I  observed  to 
you,  that  I  thought  you  not  far  from  the  kingdom  of  God,  I 
intended  to  use  the  expression  in  the  second  sense  above  stated. 

"  Secondly,  you  ask,  '  How  shall  I  know  when  I  am  thus 
saved, — restricting  the  expression,  kingdom  of  God,  to  mean 
salvalwn  V  I  admit,  with  you,  that  the  common  answer,  '  By 
the  witness  of  the  Spirit,'  is  vague  and  indefinite  ;  and  perhaps 
a  particular  definition  is  impossible.  There  are,  however, 
certain  characteristic  marks  which  are  properly  descriptive, 
although  they  convey  no  definition  of  the  thing.  First;  The 
soul  that  experiences  the  salvation  of  God  feels  gratitude  towards 
him  for  every  spiritual  blessing.  Secondly :  This  gratitude  is 
accompanied  with  a  degree  of  love  towards  him — and  we  love 
him  because  he  first  loved  us.  Thirdly :  Gratitude  implies  con- 
fidence in  his  mercies ;  and  this  confidence  is  faith,  whether 
prospectively  or  retrospectively  exercised.  Fourthly :  This 
gratitude  leads  to  obedience,  not  from  a  dread  of  punishment, 
but  from  a  sense  of  duty  and  obligation.  Fifthly :  This  gratitude 
is  accompanied  with  internal  peace ;  and  peace  presupposes  a  5 
removal  of  condemnation.  These  are  marks  of  a  spiritual  salva-  j 
tion.  But  in  what  degree  these  imist  be  experienced,  so  as  to  | 
form  a  distinguishing  criterion,  perhaps  none  but  God  can  dis-  ' 
cern.  If  we  feel  these  marks  in  any  degree,  let  us  be  thankful ; 
and,  through  the  exercise  of  thankfulness  for  past  mercies,  we 
shall  assuredly  have  more. 

"  You  say,  that  '  complete  salvation  implies  justification  and 


BELICIOUS  COUNSEL. 


357 


sanctification  also.'  I  readily  admit  the  truth  of  your  observa- 
tion. But  salvation  does  not  in  every  stage  of  its  existence 
imply  perfect  completion ;  for,  if  this  were  the  case,  it  would 
imply  glorification  also,  seeing  this  is  included  in  its  final  consum- 
mation. St.  John,  in  his  gospel,  says,  we  must  be  born  again. 
In  his  epistles  he  says,  that  we  are  first  babes,  then  young  men, 
then  fathers  in  Israel.  To  be  bom  is  to  be  justified.  This  is 
salvation  in  primitive  possession.  Afterward  the  work  is  pro- 
gressive. On  this  side  the  grave,  it  has  its  completion  in  sancti- 
fication, or  the  purification  of  our  natures ;  and  on  the  other 
side,  in  complete  glorification.  You  may  perceive  from  hence, 
that  these  conclusions  even  coincide  with  the  language  of  your 
objections,  viz.  '  It  is  but  reasonable  to  believe,  that,  when  the 
penitent  sinner  is  oppressed  by  a  painful  apprehension  of  his 
guilty  state,  and  of  the  punishment  due  to  his  transgressions, 
God  will,  on  his  reconciliation  to  such  a  person,  relieve  him  from 
his  painful  oppression  in  a  considerable  degree,  and  inspire  the 
penitent  with  a  confidence  in  his  mercy.'  1  admit,  with  you, 
that  such  a  confidence  in  the  Divine  mercy  as  is  thus  inspired 
has  a  future  aspect ;  but  I  must  contend  that  it  is  retrospective 
likewise.  Relief  from  painful  oppression,  resulting  from  recon- 
ciliation, cannot  be  prospective.  The  blessings  are  already  en- 
joyed, and  the  belief  of  this  is  founded  upon  the  evidence  which 
actual  possession  gives.  In  the  same  nnanner,  without  doubt, 
it  is  the  privilege  of  every  child  of  God  to  have  all  the  blessings 
he  has  promised  on  this  side  eternity  in  actual  enjoyment ;  and 
when  this  is  the  case,  faith  may  be  said  to  be  rt-holly  retrospective, 
so  far  as  this  is  possible  with  respect  to  beings  whose  mode  of 
existence  implies  progression.  But,  although  I  admit  it  to  be  the 
privilege  of  all  to  have  every  blessing  thus  in  actual  possession, 
and  to  have  an  indubitable  evidence  of  it,  I  dare  not  say  that  we  are 
under  the  displeasure  of  God  without  it  on  all  occasions.  I  have 
already  admitted,  that  the  degrees  of  evidence  are  so  various, 
that  the  perfect  discrimination  of  them  is  known  only  to  God. 
With  every  evidence  of  the  Divine  favour  we  should  be  delighted ; 
and  though  it  be  but  small,  yet  we  should  be  careful  not  to  cast 
away  our  confidence,  which  hath  great  recompense  of  reward. 

"  Vou  say,  '  It  seems  to  be  a  general  maxim,  that  a  sense  of 
pardon  must  precede  sanctification  ;  but  if  the  Almighty  with- 
hold or  suspend  this  assurance,  the  doctriiie  cannot  be  invariably 
true.'  I  believe  the  maxim  to  be  just  ;  but  I  do  not  see,  in  all 
cases,  that  the  evidence  of  assurance  is  necessary  to  establish 
its  existence.  Assurance  is  highly  desirable,  and  certainly 
attainable  ;  but  I  could  not  infer  from  hence  that  assurance  is  e*- 
sentiallij  necessary,  when  taken  in  its  full  import,  to  render  the 
maxim  true  ;  neither  can  I  perceive  that  the  maxim  will  be  fal- 
sified, \{  assurance  should  sometimes  give  place  to  a  less  luminous 
degree  of  evidence.  A  sense  of  pardon  is  an  evidence  of  God's 
particular  favour.  Now  it  is  hardly  to  be  conceived,  that  he 
would  purify  the  soul  of  one  who  was  not  an  object  of  his  favour. 


358 


APPENDIX. 


Indeed,  the  supposition  seems  to  involve  a  plain  contradiction. 
But,  if  the  soul  must  be  in  favour  of  God  prior  to  its  being  sancti- 
fied, then  justification  must  precede  sanctification. 

"You  also  say,  'If  I  rely  upon  the  atonement  of  Christ  for 
salvation,  and  strive,  with  God's  assistance,  to  obey  the  precepts 
of  the  gospel,  why  should  I  despair  of  his  mercy  V  1  reply, 
you  have  no  reason  whatever  to  despair,  under  these  circum- 
stances ;  and  to  you  the  lines  of  the  hymn  you  quoted  are  strictly 
applicable — 

'  Drooping  soul,  shake  off  thy  fears,'  &c. 

And  again, 

'  Give  to  the  winds  thy  fears  ; 
Hope,  and  be  undismaved.' 

"  '  A  want  of  faith,'  you  add, '  is  generally  assigned  as  the  cause 
of  this  despondency.'  Perhaps  it  is  ;  but  I  think  the  weakness, 
infirmity,  and  ignorance  of  human  nature  presents  us  with  a 
cause  that  is  more  reasonable. 

"  '  You  cannot,'  you  observe,  '  conceive,  that  if  I  believe  my 
sins  are  blotted  out,  they  -jjill  be  immediately  blotted  out.'  1 
answer,  neither  can  1 ;  neither,  I  should  conceive,  could  any  man 
who  possesses  two  grains  of  common  sense.  It  is  an  inversion 
of  the  order  of  nature.  It  is  making  the  fact  depend  for  its  exist- 
ence upon  that  evidence  which  the  fact  alone  can  impart.  And 
yet,  absurd  as  it  is,  I  have  heard  it  sometimes  roundly  asserted 
from  the  pulpit,  and  Mark  xi.  20  urged  as  a  proof  of  its 'reality 
— '  What  things  soever  ye  desire,  when  ye  pray,  believe  that  ye 
[shall]  receive  them,  and  ye  shall  have  them.'  In  this  passage, 
the  first  future  tense  is  evidently  implied,  and  as  such  it  is  con- 
sidered by  almost  every  commentator.  Dr.  Clarke  has  passed 
over  this  verse  in  silence,  only  referring  us  to  a  parallel  passage 
in  Matt.  vii.  7,  '  Ask,  and  it  shall  be  given — seek,  and  ye  shall 
find — knock,  and  it  shall  be  opened  to  you,'  &c.  You  will  plainly 
perceive,  that  I  must  draw  to  a  conclusion.  Endeavour,  my 
dear  son,  to  hold  fast  whereunto  you  have  attained.  Wait  for  a 
brighter  manifestation  of  God's  favour  than  you  have ;  but  do 
not  despair,  if  it  should  be  withholden.  Praise  him  for  what  is 
past,  and  trust  him  for  what  is  to  come. 

"  It  is  needless  to  say,  how  afl'ectionately  I  love  you,  and  long 
for  your  prosperity  both  temporal  and  eternal.  May  the  Lord 
bless  and  keep  you,  and  make  you  his  for  ever. 

"  So  prays  your  affectionate  father, 

"Samuel  Drew." 


RELIGIOUS  COUNSEL. 


359 


To  his  Sister. 

"  38  Xewgate-Etreet,  London, 
"Aug.  30th,  1826. 

"  My  dear  Sister, 

"1  really  wOilder  at  your  doubts  respecting  your  spiritual 
condition,  when  you  furnish  far  more  substantial  evidence  of 
safety  than  all  the  tumult  of  passion,  and  raptures  of  a  heated 
imagination  can  boast  You  say,  that  your  doubts  partially 
arise  from  your  being  unable  to  name  the  time  and  place  when 
the  important  change  was  wrought.  And  can  you  really  think, 
that  none  are  safe  but  those  who  can  specify  such  particulars  ? 
Remember  the  case  of  him  who  had  been  born  blind.  When 
questioned  as  to  particulars,  his  reply  was,  'One  thing  I  know, 
whereas  I  was  blind,  now  I  see.'  This  was  an  argument  that 
the  whole  Jewish  sanhedrim  could  not  answer.  I,  however, 
remember,  many  years  ago,  when  you  could  state  particulars  ; 
and  on  one  occasion  when  you  got  into  doubting  castle,  you 
found  deliverance  in  your  new  chapel,  under  a  sermon. 

"There  was  a  time  when  no  one  was  thought  converted  who 
could  not  answer  the  three  following  questions — '  time  when, 
manner  how,  and  place  where.'  But  these  are  now  become  par- 
tially obsolete.  Let  me  entreat  you  to  '  cast  not  away  your  con- 
fidence, which  hath  great  recompense  of  reward.'  '  Be  thou 
faithful  unto  death,  and  God  will  give  thee  a  crown  of  life.' 

'  Give  to  the  winds  thy  fears  ; 
Hope,  and  be  undismayed.' 

Both  threatenings  and  promises,  in  the  Bible,  are  always  con- 
nected with  a  certain  description  of  character,  either  expressed  or 
implied;  and  the  character  must  be  ours  before  either  the  former 
or  the  latter  can  be  applicable  to  us.  For  the  want  of  attending 
to  .this,  many  rejoice  when  they  ought  to  mourn,  and  many 
mourn  when  they  ought  to  rejoice.  Let  me  entreat  you  to 
attend  to  tliis,  and  then  I  shall  hardly  a^ain  hear,  in  the  language 
of-despondency — '  Do  you  think  there  is  any  hope  for  me  V 

"  I  know  the  natural  bent  of  your  mind  is  to  dweU  on  the 
gloomy  sides  of  life  and  death,  of  the  dispensations  of  Providence, 
and  even  of  time  and  eternity.  A  mind  ihus  constituted  will 
feel  with  agonizing  acuteness  a  portion  of  suffering  that,  on 
another  accustomed  to  look  on  the  luminous  side  of  the  picture, 
would  operate  with  only  a  diminished  degree  of  influence.  It  is 
this  morbid  sensibility  that  leads  you,  in  spiritual  matters,  to 
doubt  your  safety,  even  when  every  thing  in  .Scripture,  reason, 
and  the  experience  of  all  genuine  Christians  dictates  a  different 
result,  and  points  to  a  different  conclusion.  This,  I  should  ap- 
prehend, arises  from  your  making  the  momentary  feehngs  of 


360 


APPENDIX. 


your  mind  the  criterion  of  your  safety.  Amid  all  your  fears  and 
apprehensions,  I  could  never  see  any  occasion  for  them ;  and 
would  advise  you,  if  possible,  to  give  them  to  the  moles  and  to 
the  bats,  and  calmly  rely  on  the  merits  of  a  crucified  Saviour,  in 
whom  you  have  trusted,  and  who  has  promised  you  shall  never 
be  confounded.  *  «  « 

"  Your  affectionate  brother, 

"  Samuel  Drew." 


AN  ODE  ON  CHRISTMAS. 


This  piece,  which  Mr.  Drew  terms'an  "  Ode,"  bears  a  date  nearly  twelve 
months  prior  to  that  of  the  poetical  composition  quoted  at  page  84,  as  the 
earliest  of  his  extant.  The  MS.  was  not  found  until  the  volume  was  nearly 
through  the  press  ;  and  though  it  could  not  be  introduced  in  its  proper 
order,  yet,  as  an  interesting  relic,  the  reader  may  be  gratified  by  its  inser- 
tion in  the  Appendix.  It  is  given  with  no  other  correction  than  that  of 
the  orthography.  There  is  enough  of  poetry  in  the  piece  to  establish  a 
claim  to  genius,  and  enough  of  deviation  from  propriety,  and  the  rules  of 
correct  composition,  to  show  the  difficulties  with  which  genius  has  to 
contend,  when  unaided  by  education. 


Farewell,  ye  scenes  where  desolation  reigns — 

Pride  domineers,  and  wraps  the  world  in  chains  ! 

Ye  rayless  shades  of  intellectual  night, 

Empires  in  blood  that  pall  the  human  sight ; 

Ye  scenes,  in  which  life's  varied  forms  appear, 

Where  heathen  gods  their  magic  standards  rear, 

And  folly,  leagued  with  vice,  dance  round  the  passing  year. 

Ye  lamps,  that  life's  nocturnal  portrait  drew — 

Heroes  and  arms — I  bid  you  all  adieu ! 

A  nobler  form,  descending  from  the  skies. 

Claims  my  attention,  and  detains  my  eyes  ; 

Directs  the  mind  in  its  uncertain  flight. 

And  breaks  upon  me  in  a  flood  of  light. 

Through  night's  dim  shades  a  heavenly  form  descends  ; 

Light  grace  his  paths,  and  peace  his  steps  attends. 

Where  careful  shepherds  watched  their  fleecy  care, 

In  all  the  rigours  of  December's  air, 

A  herald  voice  proclaimed  an  angel  near, 

And  with  new  glories  raised  the  expiring  year. 

When  thus  the  form  in  heavenly  strains  began— 
"  Hail !  favoured  earth ! — Hail !  highly  favoured  man ! 
I  come,  designed  by  that  Almighty  Lord, 
Who  formed  your  worlds  with  his  prolific  word, 
When  formless  chaos  and  the  realms  of  night 
Produced  creation  to  my  ravished  sight, — 
H  b 


362 


APPENDIX. 


I  come,  designed  by  that  Almighty  King : 

Rejoice,  0  earth!  ye  barren  mountains  sing  ! 

Through  thy  domains  glad  tidings  shall  abound  -, 

Thy  sons  enslaved  shall  hear  the  joyful  sound ; 

Through  frozen  climes,  where  seas  forget  to  roll, 

Truth  shall  prevail,  and  spread  from  pole  to  pole ; 

Where  burning  zones  receive  the  solar  rays, 

Joy,  breaking  forth,  the  illumined  world  shall  seize  : 

No  tribes  shall  mourn  a  partial  favour  given  ; 

No  soul  exempt  reproach  neglectful  Heaven. 

For  on  this  day — on  this  auspicious  morn. 

In  Bethlehem  town  the  incarnate  Godhead's  born ; 

The  promised  Seed  prophetic  seers  foretold — 

Forsaw— predicted— did  by  faith  behold— 

The  mighty  God  !  mankind's  eternal  Friend  ! 

Great  Prince  of  Peace  !  whose  kingdom  knows  no  end  ! 

On  hay  reclined,  in  swathes  He  now  appears ; 

A  simple  manger  now  the  Godhead  bears  !" 

He  paused — when  lo  !  a  multitude  was  heard, 
Whose  heavenly  songs  the  astonished  shepherds  scared  :- 
"  Glory  to  God  in  highest  strains  be  raised ; 
Feel  it,  O  earth — and  be  thy  Maker  praised ; 
O'er  earth's  long  shores  peace  shall  extend  her  sway  ; 
Her  son  shall  hear  hostilities  decay ; 
(Jood-will  to  man  shall  smile  on  every  plain. 
And  peace  and  plenty  greet  the  world  again." 
Here  ceased  their  song — then  from  the  dusky  shade. 
Through  realms  of  light,  their  radiant  wings  displayed. 

Say,  then,  my  muse,  what  theme  will  charm  the  ear. 
Warm  the  cold  soul,  and  draw  the  pious  tear"! 
Say  how  the  Godhead,  wrapped  in  human  clay, 
Threw  by  the  glories  of  unclouded  day, 
The  gospel  standard  through  the  skies  unfurled, 
And  held  out  mercy  to  a  ruined  world. 

Hail!  blessed  time  !  auspicious  era,  hail ! 
Hail  I  conquering  love — and  truth  that  must  prevail ! 
O'er  earth's  wide  face  unveil  the  sacred  road. 
That  leads  from  darkness  to  the  throne  of  God! 
The  swarthy  sons  of  Afric's  torrid  soil. 
And  Libya's  wastes,  shall  feel  thy  genial  smile  ; 
India  shall  rise,  forgetful  of  her  stores, 
To  meet  salvation  on  her  native  shores. 
No  more  shall  warriors  spread  their  dire  alarms, 
Form  new  allies,  and  call  the  world  to  arms ; 
War's  fatal  trumpet  sound  her  blast  no  more  ; 
No  reeking  slaughter  bathe  her  steps  in  gore. 
Earth's  fertile  vales  the  quickening  voice  shall  hear. 
Rise  into  plains,  and  mountains  disappear  ; 
Rough  places  smoothed  shall  richest  pasture  yield, 
And  crooked  paths  produce  a  fertile  field ; 


EABLY  METBICAL  COMPOSITIOJT. 


3GS 


Thy  savage  tribes  shall  be  at  length  subdued, 

And  conquered — rise — in  righteousness  renewed. 

Those  swarms  tliat  pressed  where  splendid  greatness  shone, 

Shall  quit  her  interest  to  promote  their  own ; 

Despotic  power — that  human  scourge — shall  cease, 

And  captive  slaves  from  servile  chains-  release  ; 

Types  shall  no  more  to  ante-types  extend  ; 

Rites  disappear — and  priestly  order  end. 

Refulgent  scenes  shall  these  dark  days  succeed. 

And  gospel  truths  in  radiant  circles  spread  ; 

Man's  present  aims  with  future  interests  blend  ; 

To  distant  worlds  the  rising  soul  shall  tend  ; 

Messiah's  power  shall  renovate  the  whole. 

And  truth,  combined  with  love,  pervade  the  human  soul. 

Samuel  Drew. 

December  25,  1791. 


I 


VALtJABLE  WORKS, 


PUBLISHED  BY 
N  E  W- Y  O  R  R. 


THE  HISTORY  OF  THE 
DECLINE  AND  FALL  OF 
THE  KOMAN  EiMPIRE.  By 
EnwAKD  Gibbon',  Esq.  Com- 
plete in  4  vols.  8vo.    Maps,  &c. 

ThiBStcreon-ped  Edition  of  Gibbon's  Rome  is 
wftl  printed  on  a  ffood  sized  type,  and  contains 
liie  necMsiry  KngraTtni^  and-is,  in  all  re- 
rpects,  perfect.  Itiese  ftcta  are  stated,  because 
Dioatnf  thej^ndon  editions  now  ofl'cred  for 
tale  in  this  coun'ry  arc  « i;liout  the  neccasur 
Maps,  fte.,  sod  are  printed  on  a  type  «n  small 
Iba*  it  is  iojurioui  to  the  eres  to  read  them. 
Tet,  with  ail  these  dmdTantAgcs,  they  are  sotd 
*t  a  h^s^er  price  than  Ihis  Americip  edition. 

THE  HISTORY  OF  MOD- 
ERN EUROPE  ;  with  a  View 
o!'  thp  Proifi  ess  of  Society,  from 
the  Rise  of  the  Modern  King- 
ioms  to  the  Peace  of  Paris,  in 
1763.  By  William  Russell, 
LL.D.  :  and  a  Continuation  of 
the  History  to  the  Present  Time, 
by  AViLLiAM  Jones,  Esq.  With 
Annotations  by  an  American. 
Fn  3  vols.  8vo.  Engravings. 

THE  HISTORY  OF  THE 
DISCOVERY  AND  SET- 
TLEMENT OF  AMERICA. 

By  WlLLLV.M  RcBIiRTSOX.D.D. 

With  an  Account  of  his  Life 
and  Writings.  To  which  are 
added,  Questions  for  the  Exam- 
ination of  Students.  By  John 
Frost,  A.M.  In  1  vo!.  8vo. 
With  a  Portrait  and  Engravings. 

THE  HISTORY  OF  THE 
REIGN  OF  THE  EMPEROR 
CHARLES  V.  With  a  View 
of  the  Progress  of  Society  in 


Europe,  from  the  Subvrrsbn  of 
the  Roman  Emphe  lo  the  Be- 
ginning of  the  Sixteenth  Cen- 

turv.       Bv     W'lLLlA.M  ROBEKT- 

SON-,  D.D.'  To  which  are  added, 
Questions  for  the  Examination 
of  Students.  By  John  Frost, 
A.M.  Complete  in  1  vol.  Svo 
With  Engravings. 

THE  HISTORY  OF 
SCOTLAND,  during  tl.e 
Reigns  of  Queen  Mary  and  ot 
King  James  VI.,  till  his  Acces- 
sion to  the  Crown  of  England. 
With  a  Review  of  the  Scottish 
History  previous  to  that  period. 
To  which  is  affixed 

A.N  HISTORICAL  DIS- 
QUISITION CONCERNINC 
THE  KNOWLEDGE  THE 
ANCIENTS  HAD  OF  IN- 
DIA ;  and  the  Progress  of  Trado 
with  that  Country  prior  to  tlie 
Discovery  of  the  Passage  to 
it  by  the  Cape  of  "Good 
Hope.  With  an  Appendix, 
containing  ObservatioiiS  on  the 
Civil  Policy,  the  Laws  and  Ju- 
dicial Proceedings,  the  Arte, 
the  Sciences,  and  Religious  In- 
stitutions of  the  Indians.  By 
William  Robertson,  D.D. 
Complete  in  1  vol.  Svo.  With 
Engravings. 

No  librin',  public  or  priv.\te,  slwcid  b«  dN. 
titutc  of  the  hi.torical  norki  of  Oibboo,  Rofc. 
rrlson,  and  Runetl.  The  abovo  editiou  u« 
printed  and  bouttd  uoiformljr,  and  contaiA  tfM 
Dccesslr;  ludexc*,  Map«,  &c. 


4  Works  Published  hj  Harper  4-  Brolhers. 


THE  HISTORY  OF  THE 
JEWS.  From  the  Earliest 
Period  to  the  Present  Time. 
By  the  Rev.  H.  H.  Milman.  In 
3  vols.  18mo.  With  Maps  and 
Engravings. 


the  pages  of 


LETTERS  ON  DEMON- 
OLOGY  AND  WITCH- 
GRAFT.  By  Sir  Waltgu 
Scott,  Bart.  18mo.  With  an 
Engraying. 

This  is  a  very  curious  and  interesfing  work, 

»dJ  grcst  research  upon  oni-of  the  mos!  cxclnag 
topics  of  human  luquiry.    Most  of  Sir  W.alter 

for  the  supernitural  with  which  liii  niinJ  was 
Jnged,  and  ihe  extent  of  his  re.niing  in  wnrks 
wEch  treat  of  "  the  history  of  that  dirk  chap- 
ter of  humm  nature"  to  which  this  volmne  h 
derated.  In  it  he  has  Utd  open  the  stores  nf  his 
memory,  and  str!kincly  coRdensed  and  eluci- 
^ted  the  subjer  t ;  in  many  cases  explainiiff,  by 
most   ingenious  the^rii  .  ■  . 

seem  to  he  beyond  the 


HISTORY  OF  CHIVAL- 
RY AND  THE  CRUSADES. 
ByG.  P.R.James,  Esq.  18mo. 
With  Engravings. 


Asia,  aod  produced  such  extrMrdinAry  chanf^ei 
m  the  condilion  of  muikind.  The  work  it 
out,  intere«tiDc»  learned,  »iid 


NARRATIVE  OF  DIS- 
COVERY AND  ADVEN- 
TURE IN  AFRICA.  From 
the  Earliest  Ages  to  the  Pres- 
ent Time.  With  Illustrations 
of  its  Geology,  Mineralogy, 
and  Zoology.  By  Professoi 
Jameson,  and  James  Wilsoh 
and  Hugh  Murray,  Escjrs. 
18mo.    Map  and  Engravings. 

Ip  this  rolume  is  recorded  every  thing  that  ii 
known  of  the  iulerior  of  tliat  dangerous  cooli* 
nent,  which  has  been  for  so  many  ages  a  ttm 
uii  ot;jiita,  and  proved  the  grave  of  so  many  ea- 
'<  ri  iisiiis  travellera,  except  what  has  been  re 
il-'l  lo  us  hy  the  recent  mvestiga'iotiB  of  John 
I  Richard  Lander.    The  plan  of  the  work 

Ibin^ 


NARRATIVE  OF  DIS- 
COVERY AND  ADVEN- 
TURE IN  THE  POLAR 
SEAS  AND  REGIONS.  With 
Illustrations  of  their  Climate, 
Geology,  and  Natural  History, 
and  an  Account  of  the  Whale- 
Fishery.  By  Professors  Les- 
T.IF,  and  Jameson,  and  Hugh 
Murray, Esq.  18mo.  Maps,&c. 

No  persiE's  education  can  be  considered  com- 
plete without  a  certain  degree  of  atteotjon  ta 
the  most  recent  improvements  and  discOTeriea 
in  every  branch  of  science.  In  none  have 
Plater  advances  been  made,  in  the  present 
c«ntnry,  than  in  geography  and  l"--  '  


the  Polar  Seas 
and  R-gions  havR  been  most  fertile  in  resoltt 
through  the  enterprise  and  perseverance  of  a 
Ross,  a  Fmnklin,  and  a  Parry,  and  this  work, 

" vesliiatic  •     -■•   •  ■ 


itereslingand  i 


PALESTINE,  OR  THE 
HOLY  LAND.  From  the 
Earliest  Period  to  the  Present 
Time.  Bv  the  Rev.  M.  Rus- 
sPLL,  LL.D.  18mo.  With  a 
Map  and  Engravings. 

The  early  Hi-^t-ny  of  that  most  interestios 
poni'>o  nf  the  ^lobe— the  theatre  of  those  won- 
derful erents  from  which  our  religion  is  derirH 
—as  well  as  iis  present  state,  is  describ-d  in  tbii 
volume  with  the  greatest  accuracy.  The  place* 
of  maoy  of  the  inciden's  recorded  in  the  Bible 
are  pointed  out,  and  the  changes  that  hxve  oc- 
curred in  the  lapse  of  agee  are  carefully  delia* 
eatcd.  The  work  may  he  read  with  advutan 
in  coonuioD  with  the  Sacred  Bistory,  wUiebH 
eonfirms  and  Ulustntea. 


CtasHcal  Wwks  Published  by  Harper  cf-  Brvthers.  17 


XENOPHON  (Anabasis, 
translated  by  Edward  Spel- 
jiAN,  Esq.,  and  Cyropadia,  by 
the  Hon.  Maurice  A.  Cooper) 
In  2  vols.  18mo.  Portrait. 

•*  Spelman's  Anabasis  is  one  of  the  most 
arcume  aitd  elegant  translations  thai  any  lui- 
pii-e  bas  producil 


THE  ORATIONS  of  DE- 
MOSTHENES. Translated  by 
Thomas  Lf.land,  D.D.  In  2 
vols.  18mo.    "With  a  Portrait. 

"  Iq  the  translation  of  Demosthenes  Inland 


to  have  poisessetl,  not 
a  his  own  conceptioos, 


SALLUST.  Translated  by 
William  Rose,  M  A.  With 
ImproTements  and  Notes.  In 
I  vol.  18mo.  Portrait. 

The  (ranslation  of  Sillust  by  Dr.  Rose  has 
!  Bibliograpliical  Mis- 


CAESAR.  Translated  by 
William  Duncan.  In  3  vols. 
18mo.    With  a  Portrait. 

1  of  C-Tsar's  Commenta- 

 the 

late  Dr.  Clarke,  j 
AlipoMil 

cuity  of  expression  for  which  t 
justly  famous. 


fiBi  Manyn,  Penn,  3lc.  Tha 
Bibliographical  'MiBCellaay 


CICERO.  The  Orations 
translated  by  Duncan,  the  Of- 
fices by  CocKMAN,  and  the  Cato 
and  Laeiius  by  Melmoth.  In  3 
vols.  18mo.    With  a  Portrait. 

"  Duncan's  Cicero  is  well  known  as  an  ele- 
gant iraiislation  of  more  than  ordinary  merit." 
— Monthly  Revicio. 


^SCHYLUS.  Translated 
by  the  Rev.  R.  Potter,  M.A. 
In  1  vol.  ISmo. 

"  The  translator  tus  happily 
dignity  nf  style,  tliat  bold  and  Oi.'sc 
agery,  for  w  tiich  llie  author  is  pecul 


VIRGIL.  The  Eclogues 
translated  by  Wrangham,  the 
Georgics  by  Sothebv,  and  the 
^neid  by  Dryden.  In  2  vols. 
18rao.    With  a  Portrait. 

"  Virgil  is  no  less  admired  as  a  virtuous,  in- 
genious, and  judicious  aotbor,  than  as  an  in- 
comparable poet  and  excellent  philosopher. 
His  works,  which  are  replete  with  richness  of 
sentiment,  elcjance  of  expression,  and  a  happy 


SOPHOCLES.  Translated 
by  Thomas  Francklin,  D.D. 
18mo.    With  a  Portrait. 


ETKil'lDES.  Translated 
by  the  Rev.  R.  Potter,  M.A. 
In  3  vols.  ]8mo.  Portrait. 


HORACE  AND  PH.C- 
DRUS.  In  2  vols.  18mo.  In 
which  are  introduced  Transla- 
tions of  different  parts  of  Horace 
by  Dryden,  Pope,  Swift,  Per- 
son, Dentley,  Milton,  Cowper, 
Cowley,  Johnson,  Chatterton, 
Addison,  Lord  Byron,  Croly, 
Barry  Cornwall,  Ralph  Bemal, 
A.  Wrangham,  C.  A.  Wheel- 
wright, H.  Hall  Joy,  Sir  J.  C. 
Hobhouse,  R.  Montgomery,  J. 
Merivale,  Rev.  J.  Mitford, Leigh 
Hunt,  &c.  &c.  With  a  Por- 
trait of  Horace. 


14  Works  PublU-hed  by  Harper  <?■  Brothers. 


A  HISTORY  OF  THE 
CliUKCH,  from  the  Earliest 
Ages  to  the  Relormation.  By 
the  Rev.  George  Wadding- 
ton,  M.A.  8vo. 

This  elaborate  and  extremely  valuable  woi 
contains  the  history  of  the  Christian  Religic 
fron'  the  eslablishment  of  the  first  Chrislia 
church,  soon  after  the  resurrection  and  ascensio 
of  it>  Divine  Founder,  to  tlie  Lutheran  Refdrni: 
liou  ;  a  period  of  fifteen  centuries.  Iiiscon 
piled  from  the  most  authentic  materials,— an 
m  all  disputed  questions,  the  study  of  the  write 


pe.irs  the  most  probable  and  unites  tlie  sufl'ragcs 
of  the  greatest  number  of  authorities.  It  is 
recognised  generally  by  theologians  as  the  most 
clear,  accurate,  snd  o)mpreheniive  ;  and  the 
arrangement  is  estet:nied  particularly  judicious. 


wood  (or  Broule)  Rivers,  m 
1832  ;  under  the  direction  of 
Henry  R,  Schoolcraft.  In 
1  vol.  8vo. 


River,— prepared  by  Mr.  Schoolcraft, 
whose  commMid  the  erpedUion  was  placed. 
'J  he  journey  was  commenced  early  in  1832, 
and  the  main  object  was  effected,  by  the  dis- 
covery of  the  real  source,  in  July  of  the  came 
year.  But  in  connexion  wi'h  this  object,  Ali. 
Schoolcraft  was  directed  to  visit  the  numerous 
tribes  of  Indians  inhabiting  the  remote  Norih- 
n  eatern  Territory,— and  the  renuinder  of  that 
and  part  of  the  next  year  v 


very  interesting,? 


opmion  seems 


inseparable  from  reh- 
er  proved  dangerous  to 


MEMOIR  OF  THE  LIFE 
OP  WM.  LIVINGSTON; 
Moinber  of  Congress  in  1774, 
1775,  and  1776  ;  Delegate  to 
the  Federal  Convention  in  1787, 
and  Governor  of  the  State  of 
New-Jersey  from  1776  to  1790. 
With  Extracts  from  liis  Corre- 
spondence, and  Notices  of  Va- 
rious Members  of  his  Family. 
By  Theodore  Sedgvi'ick,  Jun. 
Svo.    With  a  Portrait. 

This  work  embraces  a  clear  and  iiiterc;tiii5 

ind  excellent  ruan,  dislinguished  fnr  learning 
lOst  exemplary  and  patri- 
erlies  anil  independence 


and  ti'cntfl,  and  the 


tily  valnaU 


NARRATIVE  OF  AN 
EXPEDITION  THROUGH 
THE  UPPER  MISSISSIPPI 
TO  ITASCA  LAKE,  the  ac- 
tual Source  of  this  River  ;  em- 
brncins  an  Explanatory  Trip 
through  the  St.  Croix  and  Btirnt- 


ESSAYS  ON  THE  PRIN- 
CIPLES OF  MORALITY, 
AND  ON  THE  PRIVATE 
AND  POLITICAL  RIGHTS 
AND  OBLIGATIONS  OF 
MANKIND.  By  Jonathan 
Dymond.  With  a  Preface,  by 
the  Rev.  George  Bcsh,  M.A. 
In  1  vol.  Svo. 

The  highest  encomiums  have  been  IavishC'> 
upon  ihii  worlt,  both  here  and  in  England,  and 

althoutih  two  or  three  years  el:^sed  a^er^ 


The  Ess.ays  were 
s  death,  and  the  lal* 
jthnr  vM-re  perfectly 


metaphysicians,  though  < 


LETTERS  AND  JOUR- 
NALS OF  LORD  BYRON ; 
with  Notices  of  his  Life.  By 
Thomas  Moore,  Esq.  In  2 
vols.  Svo.    With  a  Portrait. 


type  and  good  paper, ; 


Juvenile  Works  Published  by  Harper  tj-  Brothers.  19 


INDIAN  TRAITS;  BE- 
ING SKETCHES  OF  THE 
MANNERS,  CUSTOMS, 
AND  CHARACTER  of  the 
NORTH  A1\IERICAN  NA- 
TIVES. By  B.B.Thatchkk, 
Esq.  In  2  vols.  18mo.  With 
numerous  Engravings. 

The  appearance,  cli;ir3cter,  anil  habits  of  the 
North  Americin  ladau  have  long  been  a  fa- 

••  readera,  and  accunl.:  deserip^ions  of  them 
m  Muallir  iojlniclite  and  agreci;  i..-.  These 
win  the  subject  of  the  pre»eni  vounies,  and 
"i  correct  and 


:  object  is  accomplished. 


TALES  FROM  AMERI- 
CAN HISTORY.  By  the 
Author  of  "American  Popular 
Lessons."  In  3  toIs.  18mo. 
^With  En^avings. 


I  general  idea  of  i 


Infonnatinn.  These  purposes  luve  been  efftrcl- 
ed  with  much  KLi:oeu,and  the  volumes  will  be 
bniDd  insiruciivc  jad  cDtertainiug.  In  the  ma- 
joritj  of  insrances,  ihe  Tales  have  been  selected 
with  reference  to  the  illustntion  of  some  moral 
principle:  and  the  frequent  rpportuniiies  if* 
fittded  for  the  mtrojiiction  of  reflections  leading 
to  the  cultivation  ofpiety  and  religion  have  been 
ftbljaad  zealously  improved.  Asa  schnnl-book, 
thi»  collection  of  HisioricaJ  T*le«  \\  calculated 
■     "  '  terviceable :  and  there  c.\d  be 


will  be  attended  wiih  fc 


EVIDENCES  OF  CHRIS- 
TIANITY ;  or,  Uncle  Philip^s 
Conversations  with  the  Children 
about  the  Truth  of  the  Chris- 
tian Religion.  18mo.  With 
Engravin, 

Id  this  eioe 
torithasbe  :   

iDlel^igible  to  the  minds  of  the  youn;,  the  g 
and  striking  evidences  by  which  the  truth  ol 
divine  religion  is  es'ablisbed.  The  mannE 
which  the  lubjtfcl  is  treated  is  both  novel 
B^niout ;  and  6*  much  ' 
with  the  argument  as  ti 
pmuve,  but  highly  into 


make  it  not  oaly  im- 


THE  YOUNG  CRUSOE , 
or,  the  Shipwrecked  Boy.  Con- 
taining an  Account  of  his  Ship- 
wreck, and  Residence  lor  Seve 
rat  Months  alone  upon  an  Uniu  • 
habited  Island.  By  Mrs.  Hop 
Land.    18mo.  Engravings. 

Mrs.  ilofland,  the  admirable  author  uf  tho 
"  Sob  of  a  Genius."  and  oilier  exccnw.l  juvenile 
pri^uc'ions,  is  .also  ttie  writer  uf  this  pleaiiog 
story.  lu  its  plan  and  objects  it  issnmewhat  simi- 
lar to  the  Swiss  Family  R>ljin30n;  and,  like  it, 
will  tie  read  with  delight  by  every  little  boy  or 
girl  who  can  sympathize  iii  (he  inisforiune*.  or 
rejoice  in  the  comfort>andenjoymenis  of  aooihar. 
The  style,  the  incidents,  and  ihe  pervading  spirit 
are  all  in  the  highest  degree  excel  lent, —as,  in- 
deed, are  all  the  writings  of  this  accomplished 
anti  amiable  author.   The  culture  of  the  youth- 


teacher.  None  have  b 
Mrs.  Hofland ;  and  h 
ci?ot  warrant  for  ll« 
which  it  is  appended. 


ity,  r 


any  book  to 


PERILS  OF  THE  SEA; 
being  Authentic  Narratives  of 
Remarkable  and  Affecting  Dis- 
asters upon  the  Deep.  With 
Illustrations  of  the  Power  aniJ 
Goodness  of  God  in  wonderful 


im  auilientic  sources.  In  making  I 
1  attention  his  t>een  piid  to  the  com 
-    ■      ■      -    •  rpielya 


,  and  of  ilie  power  and 
1  appearance,  there  were 


Kent,  the  Empress,  ihc  Lady  Hobart,  the 
sejt,  the  Halsewell  Kast  Indi^m^n,  Ihe  sle: 
packet  Hothsay  Castle,  of  five  Wesleyan  i 


THE  AMERICAN  FOR- 
EST ;  or,  Uncle  Philip's  Con- 
versations with  the  Children 
about  the  Trees  of  America. 
8mo.    With  Engravings. 

To  make  the  rising  geneniion  acquainted 
wiih  one  great  class  of  natural  productions, 
with  which  the  North  American  Continent  ts 
abundantly  SI 

believed  that  a)l 

genous  trees  which  h 
J  grow  wiUiin  this  pori 


:  with  the  necessary  brevity.  ConBidered 
I  aj  a  catalogue,  the  work  is  valuable,  an4 


18      Juvenile  Works  Published  by  Harper  <f  Brothers. 


LIVES  OF  THE  APOS- 
TLES AND  EARLY  MAR- 
TYRS OF  THE  CHURCH. 
By  the  author  of  "  The  Trial 
of  Skill."  ISmo. 


The  style  is  *jeau1ifully  einiple,  3iiJ  Ihe  nar- 
ntive  is  intersj'erseJ  ^^  i  h  cnn.iMLii!^  oii  veflcc- 


prtjsiioQS  of  praise  lo  th's  work. 


THE  SWISS  FAMILY 
ROBINSON  ;  or,  Adventures 
of  a  Father  and  Mother  and 
Four  Sons  on  a  Desert  Island. 
The  Progress  of  the  Story  form- 
ing a  clear  Illustration  of  the 
first  Principles  of  Natural  His-  ; 
tory,  and  many  Branches  of 
Science  which  most  immedi- 
ately apply  to  the  Business  of 
Life.  In  3  vols.  18mo.  With 
Engravings. 

The  purpose  of  this  pleasing  story  is  to  con 
Tey  ioBtruclion  in  the  arls  and  Natural  History, 
aod,  at  the  same  time,  to  inculcite  by  example 
priociples  which  lend  to  the  promotion  of  social 
happiness.  Every  one  has  heard  of  Robinson 
Crusoe,  and  the  unrivalled  and  lon^-continued 
popularity  of  that  admirable  nnrrallve,  proves 
that  the  tastes  and  feeiin^s  to  which  it  addresses" 
itself  are  among  the  strangest  and  most  univer- 
gal  which  belong  to  human  nature,  The  ad- 
ventures of  the  Swiss  family  are  somewhat  slm- 

they  illuslnite,  in  the  niosi  forcible  and  pleasing 
maUDer,  the  efficacy  of  piely,  industry,  mge- 
nuity,  and  gnod-temper,  in  Bmoothiiig  difficul- 
ties and  procuring  enjoymenls  under  the  most 
adverse  circumstances.  The  slory  abounds  with 
instruction  and  enterlainment,  and  well  deserves 


THE  ORNAMEMTS  DIS- 
COVERED. By  Mrs.  Hughs. 
18mo.  Engravings. 

The  reputation  of 'Mrs.  Hughs  (of  Philadel- 
phiAlasan  agreeal^le  and  instructive  writer  is 
already  firmlv  established,  tibe  has  done  wiuch 
foryouth,  an^  the  present  volume  will  ?.dd  to 
the  obligations  they  owe  her.  I'  is  wrillen  with  , 
plainness,  yet  elegance ;  ,ind  the  story,  while  it  I 
iQCcIcalea useful  leason<i  in  moraliiy  and  religion, 


SUNDAY  EVENINGS,  or, 
an  easy  Introduction  to  the 
Reading  of  the  Bible.  [Do- 
signed  for  Sunday  Reading  and 
Sunday-School  Libraries.]  3 
vols.  18mo.  With  Engrav- 
ings. 

'Ihe  title  of  this  escellent  little  work  suiB- 
cicnity  explaruii  its  object.  As  an  introductioa 
to  the  knowledge  of  Scripture  History,  and  aa 
incentive  lo  Ihe  study  of  ihe  Sacred  voluiDO,  it 
is  calculaleJ  to  produce  llie  most  happy  efifecti 
upon  Ihe  minds  of  children;  and  the  simplicity 
ot  the  language  preserves  to  Ih';  slory  all  Ihoio 

►heir  want  of  a  perfect  umiersianding  of  tba 
words  they  re.id.  Besides  a  developed  aoi 
connected  view,  in  easy  language,  of  the  Scrip< 
ture  story  itself,  the  author  has  endeavoured  to 
intersperse  in  the  narrative  audi  uolicei  of  tbo 
countries  spoken  of,  together  with  such  refer- 
ences to  the  New  Tes'ament  and  practical  re- 
marks, as  would  tend  to  make  the  Ijook  cithw 

or  more  valuable  in  a  moral  and  religious  light . 
and  it  cannot  fail  of  obtaining  the  approbatioo 
of  all  judicious  and  pious  parents,  and  of  ptOv 
jog.  by  the  blefcsiug  of  God,  an  assistance  lo  tho 

early  knowledge  and  love  of  his  Sacred  Word. 


THE  SON  OF  A  GE- 
NIUS. A  Tale,  for  the  Use 
of  Youth.  By  Mrs.  Hofland. 
18mo.  Engravings. 

This  admiraljle  story  has  been  too  long  fami- 
liar  to  the  public — at  least  to  that  portion  of  it 
which  lias  advanced  beyond  ihe  period  of  child- 
hood—to require  either  eulogy  or  descrlptioa. 
It  has  for  many  years  maintaioed  iu  place 
among  the  beat  and  most  esteemed  juveniia 
works  in  the  English  language;  and  its  popu- 
larity is  easily  accounted  fur  by  the  touching  in- 
terest of  the  incidents,  and  tbe  purity  of  the 
principles  it  inculcates  both  of  wisdom  and  le- 
ligioD.  The  publisher?  were  induced  to  reprint 
it,  partly  by  the  advice  and  solicitations  of 
their  friends,  and  their  own  knowledge  of  iti 
merits,  and  partly  by  Ihe  consideration  that  it 
has  long  been  out  of  print,  and  that  it  wai  very 
difficult  to  procure  a  copy. 


NATURAL  HISTORY; 
or,  Uncle  Philip's  Conversa- 
tions with  the  Children  about 
Tools  and  Trades  among  the 
Inferior  Animals.  ISmo.  With 
numerous  Engravings. 

This  work  has  deservedly  received  the  high- 
est encomiums,  noi  only  for  the  extent,  olility, 
and  interesting  nature  of  the  information  it  con- 
veys, but  also  for  Ihe  skill  wilh  which  the  ideu 
and  language  are  adapted  to  Ihe  tastes  as  w«ll 
ai  the  capacities  of  youthful  readen.  ^But 

and  earnest  piety  which  pervades  the  convera- 
fions,  aiid  the  excellence  of  the  precepts  dnwa 
from  the  wonders  they  disclose. 


Works  Published  by 


Harper  ^  Brothers,  31 


NARRATIVE  of  a  VOY- 
AGE TO  THE  SOUTH  SEAS, 
m  1829-1831.  By  Abby  Jane 
MoRRELL,  who  accompanied 
her  husband,  Capt.  Benjamin 
Morrell,  Jan.,  of  the  Schooner 
Antarctic.    12mo.  Portrait. 

The  scenes  and  idvcniures  of  which  Mrs. 

is  tfacir  nature,  and  it  is  bcIievcU  that  an  ac* 
count  of  them,  divested  of  nautical  technicali- 
ties and  descriptions  purely  maritime,  will  be 
read  with  pleasure,  especially  by  readers  of  her 


EVIDENCE  OF  THE 
TRUTH  OF  THE  CHRIS- 
TIAN RELIGION,  derived 
from  the  hteral  Fulfilment  of 
Prophecy.  By  the  Rev.  Alex- 
ander Keith.  12mo. 

Of  the  estimation  in  which  this  Tolqme  is 
held  in  England,  evidence  is  afforded  by  the 
following  itrmarit :— "  Few  more  satisfactory 
works  in  confirmation  of  the  inspiration  of 
Scripture  have  appeared  within  our  own  time 
than  Out  of  Mr.  Keith."  The  writer  whoso 
testimony  is  thus  given  is  the  Rev.  Dr.  Shut'le- 
worth,  Warden  of  New  College,  OxforJ.  The 
work  IS  so  justly  appreciated  in  Edinburgh  that 
it  has  passed  ihrou'h  six  editions ;  and  parts  of 
it  have  been  publikbed  in  tncls  in  English, 
French,  and  German. 

DOMESTIC  DUTIES ;  or. 
Instructions  to  Young  Married 
Ladies,  on  the  Management  of 
their  Households,  and  the  Reg- 
ulation of  their  Conduct  in  the 
Tarious  Relations  and  Duties 
of  Married  Life.  By  Mrs.  W. 
Parkes.  With  Improvements 
adapted  to  the  American  Read- 
er. 12mo. 

"  The  volume  before  os  is  a  perfect  vnde 
TRsrum  for  the  young  married  lady,  who  may 

quette.  .  .  .  There  is  nntbiDg  omitifed  with 
which  it  behooves  a  lady  to  be  acquainted.*'— 
JfonUUy  Wogoaine. 


A  CONCORDANCE  TO 
THE  HOLY  SCRIPTURES 
OF  THE  OLD  AND  NEW 
TESTAMENT.  By  .Toh.v 
Brown,  of  Haddington.  32ino. 

The  WDalleel  form  in  which  th;s  conordance 
sad  the  t>T)e  it  so  clear  that  it  can  be  easily  rtad. 


THE  LIFE  OP  ANDREW 
JACKSON,  President  of  the 
United  States  of  America.  By 
Wm.  Cobbett,  M.P.  18mo. 
With  a  Portrait. 

The  Life  of  id  American  President,  wriden 
by  ail  English  Member  of  Parliament,  has 
aomeibin;  attractive  in  its  v»ry  aanouncement ; 
and  the  interrsl  in  the  present  case  is  much  io- 
crvased  by  the  well-known  character  of  Ibe 
author,.n-bo  is  the  famous  Radical  member  for 
Oldham,  and  ediior,  or  niher  wr-ier,  of  the 
'Gridiron  Roister.'  To  all  who  know  any 
thing  of  William  Cobbelt  and  his  strong,  ner- 

ihinkiDg,  this  Utile  volume  requires  do  rvcom> 


MRS.  JAMESON'S  VI- 
SITS AND  SKETCHES  AT 
HOME  AND  ABROAD.  With 
Tales  and  Miscellanies,  and  a 
new  and  improved  edition  of 
"The  Diary  of  an  Ennuyee." 
In  2  vols.  12mo. 

In  these  delighfful  volumes,  the  richly-itored 
and  highly  cutlivaled  mind  of  Mni.  Jameson, 
has  inve«ied  the  scenes  and  objects  of  Trhicb  she 

tiacive  character,  with  a  new  and  peculiar  in- 
terest. Wherever  she  has  beeo.  she  has  found 
wmething  to  charm  herself,  and  of  which  il  is 
pleasant  to  hear.  All  that  is  rw:  in  art,  wiihia 
the  scope  of  her  observations  w  shown  vividly 
and  beautifully  ,  character  and  manners  are  il. 
lustraled  by  striking  and  well-told  Incidenta  ; 
scenery  of  ever>-class^  the  rich,  the  grand,  the 
peicefui  and  the  5av,  is  deicribed  with  t  he  most 
graphic  and  varied  skill  ;  and  more  than  aJl. 
the  great  and  gnod  of  human  kind,  among  whom 
she  freely  mingled  on  her  way,  are  brought  be- 
fore us,  both  in  mind  and  peraon,  with  a  clear- 
ness and  dis^inpishing^etfecl  that  almost  per- 

pfrsonal  acquaintance.  Genius  and  educatran 
ar«  in  every  pa^e ;  and  the  reader  feels,  that  tbr 
mind  with  wliicb  he  is  communing  is  one  of 
the  highest  oider. 


SIR  EDWARD  SEA- 
WARD'S  NARRATIVE  or 
HIS  SHIPWRECK,  and  con- 
sequent Discovery  of  certain 
Islands  in  the  Carribbean  Sea  : 
with  a  Detail  of  many  Extraor- 
dinary and  highly  Interesting 
Events  in  his  Life.  Edited  by 
Miss  Jane  Porter  In  3  vols. 
12mo 

"  We  have  finished  the  peratal  of  this  most 
affrec-xlle  work,  and  almost  rejn^t  that  th« 
pleasure  of  a  first  perusal  h-i?  eone  by  ;  Thoi^k 
It  is  one  of  those  books  which  will  bsar  nsdiof 
a^ia  and  agmio." — Cammaaal  AritMrtum. 


30  Wwks  Published  by 


Harper  Jjr  Brothert. 


SKETCHES  OF  THE 
LIVES  OF  DISTINGUISH- 
ED FEMALES.  Written  for 
Girls,  with  a  view  to  their  Men- 
tal and  Moral  Improvement. 
By  an  American  Lady.  18mo. 
With  a  Portrait.  &c. 

A*  CTample  acts  more  forcibly  upon  fem;ile 


coliarly  inslruci.ve,  anj 


CAROLINE  WESTER- 
LEY  ;  or,  the  Young  Traveller 
from  Ohio.  18mo.  With  En- 
gravings. 

This  work  will  prove  instructive  as  well  as 
sittractive  to  young  persons.  In  its  pages  genius, 
nature,  morality,  and  religion  have  been  brought 
into  happy  combination.  It  is  replete  with 
sound  and  rational  piety,  judicious  remarlt,  and 
right  feeling. 


THE  CLERGYMAN'S 
ORPHAN,  and  Other  Talcs. 
By  a  Clergyman,  For  the  Use 
ofYoulh.    ISmo.  Engravings. 

The  author  of  the  "  Clergyman's  Orphan"  in- 
forms us  that  with  most  of  the  charac'crs  whose 
tomnDtic  history  is  here  recorded  he  nas  pt-r- 
iona]|y  acquainted  ;  and  Touches  !hat  it  is  sub- 
ftantialiv  a  narrative  of  facts.  The  ohjcct  of 
the  work  is  to  alrentfthen  in  the  minds  of  young 
penons  the  cooviction  of  a  special  supertDtend- 
iDC  Providence. 


UNCLE  PHILIPS  CON- 
VERSATIONS with  the  Chil- 
dren about  Virginia.  18mo. 
With  Engravings. 

The  volume  with  this  title  is  the  first  of  a  se- 

for  youthful  readers,  an  accurate,  though  neces- 
iwily  brif  f  history  of  the  several  slates  which 
compote  the  union.  The  detiila  are  as  copious 
»5the  Iirail»  of  the  work  permit,  and  great  care 
and  skill  have  been  exercised  to  render  them 
attractive  by  the  aid  of  personal  anecdote  and 


UNCLE  PHILIP'S  CON. 
VERSATIONS  with  the  ChU- 
dren  about  New- York.  18ma 
With  Plates. 

LUTHER  AND  THE  LU- 
THERAN REFORMATION. 
By  John  Scott,  A.M.  In  2 
vols.  18mo.    With  Portraits. 


THE  LIFE  OF  ARCH- 
BISHOP CRANMER.  By 
Charles  Webb  Le  Bas,  A.M. 
In  2  vols.  18mo.  Portrait. 


THE  LIFE  OF  WICLIF 
By  Charles  Webb  Le  Bas, 
A.M.  18nao.   With  a  Portrait 


THE  CONSISTENCY  OF 
THE  WHOLE  SCHEME  or 
REVEL.\TION,  with  Itself, 
and  with  Human  Reason.  By 
Philip  Nicholas  Shuttlk- 
woBTH,  D.D.  18mo. 

HISTORY  OF  THE  RF^ 
FORMED  RELIGION  IN 
FRANCE.  By  Rev.  Edward 
Smedley.  In  3  vols.  18mo. 
With  Engravings. 

PRESENT  STATE  OF 
CHRISTIANITY,  and  of  the 
Missionary  establishments  for 
its  Propagation  in  all  Parts  of 
the  W'orld.  Edited  by  Frei>- 
ERic  Shoberl.  12mo. 

RELIGIOUS  DIS- 
COURSES.  BySmWALTBE 
Scott,  Bart.  ISmo. 

SERMONS  ON  SEVERAL 
OCCASIONS.  By  Rev.  Johw 
Wesley,  A.M.  Containing  a 
Number  of  Sermons  never  be- 
fore published  in  this  Country. 
In  3  vols.  8vo.  

SCENES  IN  OUR  PARISH 
12mo. 


